get through my quarter-life crisis

...Tonight was my last therapy session for the time being. I think I’ve made it through the worst of my quarter-life crisis. For the first time in my life, I reached inward to solve my issues instead of reaching outward, and I think I learned some new and different things in the process. I am a heck of a lot stronger than I ever thought I was, and yet, part of that strength comes from acknowledging my weakness.

I hope I can keep this positive outlook, and use the skills I’ve learned to help me continue to cope with the bumps and bruises of everyday life.

I changed my therapy appointment time so my husband could come with me. After hearing him grumble about my seeing a therapist all summer long, he finally MET my therapist and realized how much good it was doing me!

I was able to say things to my husband I’ve been holding in for so long. I spent half of the time in tears, but it was so good! I think he finally is starting to understand where some of my pain is coming from, and he actually verbalized that he needs to change his behavior so I can feel comfortable opening up to him.

It makes me teary even writing about it. Finally!

Soooo….

I was eating dinner last night with my husband, and suddenly I had a piece of chicken stuck in my throat. “Ok,” I thought, “this kind of thing has happened before with bread. I just need to drink a little water and it will pass.”

No good. The chicken was definitely lodged in my esophagus (NOT my trachea, thank goodness). I could still talk and breathe, but the water wouldn’t stay down. I discovered I couldn’t even swallow my own saliva—it just kept backing up and I had to spit it out.

After 2 hours of discomfort, I finally broke down and went to the ER, feeling like an idiot. It wasn’t like I was inhaling my food or anything. As it turns out, they had to put me to sleep and actually PUSH the food down my throat. The GI doctor I saw said he suspected that I had a narrow esophagus, and that I need to have it STRETCHED! Can you believe it? They’re going to have to knock me unconscious again and somehow stretch my esophagus. I don’t want to think about how they’re going to do it.

So, I’m talking with my therapist today—I still can’t put my finger on what’s bothering me. It’s like it’s locked out from my conscious mind. I’ve been having vivid dreams (and nightmares) recently, some of which I can recall and others that I cannot, so he suggested keeping a dream journal. He also said that it’s not impossible that my physical body is providing a metaphor for some of the emotional stuff I’ve been going through.

Specifically, he asked, “What has been hard for you to swallow?” The first reply that jumped to my mind was, “I have a very hard time being angry at people.” We wound up talking about the incident that sparked my desire to get help in the first place, and realized that I had some anger that I had never expressed about the incident.

My homework for this week is to try and get my mind back to the night of the incident, and just kind of hang out in the moments that upset me so much. I’m a little scared.

...”I don’t want to push you, but eventually we need to get to the bottom of this underlying sadness of yours.”

Darn. Thought I was hiding that pretty well! Things have been going very well lately, and I feel like I’m making plenty of positive progress.

I can’t quite voice what it is, this generalized melancholy that sits like a sediment at the bottom of my mind. Stir my life up enough, and it comes brimming to the surface quickly (along with tears)....but I’m lost as to what the cause is for it. I have so much to be happy about!

It could be biochemical, but I’m so VERY resistant to taking meds of any kind other than vitamins, etc.

Can anyone identify with what I’m talking about here?

So, I had a mini-meltdown at work (I’m a teacher), and actually had thoughts about harming myself (so SCARY)—which is precisely when I decided to see a professional. Been going for 6 weeks now, and things are going well, but I am still REALLY avoidant about confronting some issues.

Who knew your mid-twenties could be so trying?