April 4, 2004
Too Much Information?
I had my fifth therapy session on Friday. It was less intense than the previous one, probably because I felt (dare I say it) good and was reluctant to dig up bad feelings just for show and tell.
I'm glad that Howard didn't try to steer me in that direction. I don't know whether I should have expected him to do that, probably not, but I tend to do it to myself at times.
He said I seemed stronger than when I started, and agreed that we'd let two or three weeks pass before the next session.
I am stronger than I was last month, but I'm not where I want to be. Still, I'm surprised at the speed of my progress. I guess I still think of therapy as years and years on the couch, obsessing over egos and ids and complexes.
That must be out of fashion.
Even when I studied psychology (early '70s) behavioural theory was a big thing. Forget about digging up all your traumas, taking them out, and worrying them to death. Just change the way you behave by manipulating the reward/response thing.
All the rest follows.
At least, that's the general idea as I remember it, and as usual I'm too lazy to look it up. Please set me straight, somebody, if I got it wrong.
Of course there are as many theories as there are self-help authors, and most sit somewhere in between the extremes of psychoanalytic thought and behavioural theory. I sense that Howard leans slightly towards the behavioural side.
So I might not get to do as much mother-bashing as I expected, but if I feel better and get un-stuck, that's all that matters.
In other news:
My period is now almost a week late. I have not yet missed a cycle (pregnancies aside) even though I began to notice perimenopausal changes as many as ten years ago.
The most I've ever been is a week late.
Two years ago.
It just doesn't feel appropriate for a woman of a certain age to have to endure the mess and the cramps and the inconvenience and the message that theoretically she COULD still reproduce if she wanted to.
If it weren't for the tied-up tubes, of course.
Not to mention the absence of a contributing partner.
Now how does she get the message across to her ovaries?
Today was the start of Daylight Saving Time in most of North America.
I'm old enough to remember when the clocks changed at the end of April but I much prefer the earlier switch.
Who needs a 5 AM sunrise, anyway?
I'm also old enough to remember when the semi-annual ordeal wasn't an ordeal.
Wristwatch, kitchen clock, perhaps another clock or two around the house (Grandfather clocks were big. Ha. I kill me!) alarm clock, and that was it.
Now it's overwhelming.
TVs, VCRs, stereos, clock radios, cell phones, thermostats, stoves, microwaves, coffee makers, the car, and who owns just one wristwatch anymore?
Thankfully, Windows switches the computer time on its own.
The Housemate has always taken the opportunity to drive me crazy by setting the household clocks sometime around mid-day Saturday.
I never know which clocks he's changed, therefore never know what time it really is.
Sure, I could wear my watch in the house. But then I'd have one less thing to complain about!
Still posting occasional short entries in the blog.
How it came to be.
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