Because Blue Flowers

I am in a bit of a good mood, which I don’t expect to last long. I got a massage yesterday, and it felt so good because my shoulders are so tight and knotted. I am going back next week for more. It’s just something I need right.

I am still having trouble sleeping. Partly because my shoulders hurt, but also because I have so many worries and anxieties and think too much. My therapist thinks that if I work through all the things I carry inside, if I process my stuff, I can get closure and heal. I don’t even know what healing feels like. I seem to equate it with weakness or something foreign to me because I don’t believe I’m innately a real good person, I’m not spiritual or anything, and I have this weird ego. I feel so fake just saying that word, healing. How can that be me? Healing sounds like something only positive people and like really kind and spiritual people do. But I am just sick of having all these secrets and not feeling strong inside. Of not owning my story and taking in pride in it.

I talk about my parents and my deep resentments in therapy a lot. I feel unhappy because my parents never change. Even though I know they love me and mean well, I don’t like the way they show it. They worry about me so much it irritates me and makes me feel guilty. And they’re so pushy that sometimes their advice feels like criticism. They tell me when I’m gaining weight and what they think I should eat and what I should to to lose weight. Now, they want me to drink a tea from Thailand made from blue flowers because they saw a Filipino guy on TV who said eating the flowers got rid of his bipolar. I know they want to help me, but sigh… no blue flowers are gonna magically cute my illness. Plus, it doesn’t taste like anything or make me feel warm and good inside like the strawberry white tea I normally drink. It’s actually a green tea which I love. Tastes so good.

Anyway so I’ve decided that since I can’t change my parents, I could try changing my emotions and behavior when they irritate me. Lately whenever I feel bad or guilty about being grumpy toward them I end up feeling I have to do something nice for them or make it up somehow. Like I try really hard to be patient when my dad starts talking even though I really don’t want to talk or care about the conversation. Idk why but I get so easily triggered when my parents communicate because I don’t feel invested in 90% of their conversations. Especially my dad who goes on and on with trivial things I couldn’t care less about. Plus, he’s always buying stuff just because it’s on sale and showing it to me like it’s some kind of treasure when all I see is clutter and not only that but it pisses my mom off because she thinks he’s wasting money and just takes up space in the house and my dad leaves all his mess around. Lol. Family.

So, now, my thing is to try to just accept it and try not to get irritated or snap at my parents and be nice. Then I won’t feel so guilty and bad about myself. Lol. Because they never hear me anyway. And I have never felt comfortable talking to them about my feelings. I especially can’t talk to them about my secrets.

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Author: Katinka

Complicated, #bipolar writer, gamer, romance book blogger, Battle.net Tag: Bats#1598, #LoveWins #MeToo

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