Science says that women like sex. That their libido is often on parallel with men's, and that especially for young and older women, sex is something they highly value. Yet, many women find this assertion itself baffling, as their own body has little want or need for sex.
The 5th grade is when I learn that girlhood is a battlefield. Most girls learned it before then, but I'd always been immature. I'd always been oblivious to the social scheming and plots around me.
So, I've had something of a tumultuous, crazy several weeks. But, it means that things have calmed down enough that I can kind of go back to sometimes posting on here.
Rejection is an ordinary part of life. And, while there may be some added emotional sting to the rejection that comes with creative pursuits, it is still no different than the rejection that greets us every day. I am practiced at rejection. I like to mention to people who think that they will work at a library that I got hired on my 98th application. I have submitted poetry to literary journals every week for almost two years now. I went through a list of over 150 agents when I was first pitching my first novel. Rejection is something that I have a lot of practice at.
So, I'm trying to do some introspective type things in preparation to see a therapist. In that, I don't know if therapy is going to be helpful at all, so I am trying to figure out what it is that I want from it at all. I mean, I've always gone into therapy with goals before. "Hey, I'd like to stop this behavior," or "Hey, so my depression is a little off the charts, can we figure out how to fix it?" But, that isn't really the point. Because, looming far bigger than any question of stopping me from chewing my fingernails or getting myself back into a healthy sleep routine is the question of what to do about the big issue under it all.
I'm applying for jobs, right? Because I legitimately cannot stay at the one that I am at. Because I need to be an adult for a little while, and I need to find something stable. I need a job where I will always know that I will have health insurance. I need a work week that is the same every week. I need a career that has somewhere to go. Because I'm sick of being poor and trying to make the impossible be financially fungible. It isn't. Because I need a job where I don't have to worry about talking to people every day and letting my social meter slowly degrade while I neglect friendships and relationships.
So, I went in for surgery yesterday. It was a pretty routine exploratory surgery (meaning that they were looking for problems and confirming diagnosis, rather than treating anything), but it meant that I was put under. And as one of the nurses was working her way through the usual intake questions about family history, and whether or not you felt safe at home, and whether or not you have thoughts of harming yourself or taking your own life.
A couple years ago I started to see references to the term "narrative therapy" as a therapeutic toolset. At the time I was between therapists, but while art therapy, cognitive behavioral theory, and more traditional psychotherapy had all felt artificial and problematic, I instantly grasped and appreciated narrative therapy.