Therapy Mondays

I feel like writing, but I don’t know (yet) how this post will turn out. Sometimes I have a very precise idea of what I want to write about and then I just follow through and put it into words. Most times, however, I change course in the middle of writing or I end up discovering that my need to write wasn’t about what I thought it was about in the first place – who needs therapy when there’s writing, am I right?
Just kidding, I actually do need therapy. And I go to sessions regularly. Fun fact: usually on a Monday.

I recently went on a trip by myself and as usual, I was somewhat stressed before leaving. I hate that I always need to pack half my apartment in order to have everything that I may or may not need with me, only to discover that I don’t need most of the things I pack but would need the one thing I didn’t bring because I hadn’t used nor needed it in ages. This time, the thing that I would have needed was my heating pack, thanks to excruciating pain in my lower abdomen (which was, as later confirmed at a very frustrating doctor’s appointment, due to ovulation).

Up until that point, I loved the place I had picked out for myself: it was very quiet (I barely needed my noise-cancelling headphones!), it was in the middle of nature, perfectly connected to the beach and everything else that was in the area by lovely cycle lanes, there were barely any people around and absolutely no interaction with humans was required, not even for check-in, which means I didn’t need to make small talk or to force myself to smile when I didn’t feel like it, I could let go of all the social conventions that my usual day-to-day life requires – in short, I didn’t need the mask.

I didn’t feel lonely for a second and enjoyed going about my day as I pleased: I got up when I felt like it, ate when I was hungry and rested when I was tired. Despite the fact that I was forced to cut the trip short (due to the pain), I ended up not having spoken a single word to anyone (in person – I did send the occasional voice message and had one or two quick phone calls) for an entire week and it was pure bliss. I stayed in touch with people via text messages and I continued to be active on social media, so I didn’t feel disconnected.

I did have trouble sleeping unfortunately, as I usually do whenever I’m not in my own bed. The bedding had a smell that I found a bit unsettling, it smelled of a mix of detergent and humidity and it was all I could think about as soon as I put my head on the pillow.

During the trip, I realised that up until then, I had been doing solo trips wrong. So far, I had only ever been to cities by myself, and that has always been a struggle. I felt lonely every single time, had trouble going to restaurants or cafés by myself and was generally overstimulated by the noises and the abundance of people in cities. That being said, I like the idea of going to cities and I would definitely like to see some more. At the same time, I need to honour the fact that being in cities doesn’t necessarily serve me and has the potential to drain me of energy and resilience in no time. The same goes for airports, public transport and prolonged road trips (whether I’m the one who’s driving or not), which tends to limit me in my destination choices. When I finally came to understand that city trips aren’t the best choice for me personally, I noticed that I’ve always had the tendency to seek out the parks or at the very least the quieter parts of any city. For instance, my happiest Berlin memories are from the time spent at Mauerpark or Tempelhofer Feld. And then I remembered that, whenever I was on vacation with my family when I was younger, my dad used to consistently drag us to what we used to call the “Einöde“, by which we meant the quiet streets, with fewer people around, and I was super annoyed by that. Turns out I get it now.

On the flipside of the absolute bliss of being on vacation by myself somewhere quiet is the dread that washed over me as I found myself with abdominal pain so intense that it kept me up for most of the night and made me google emergency rooms in the area. I was already picturing myself driving there alone, stressed and in pain – an absolute nightmare.

On a whole other note, I recently had a therapy session (on a Monday, duh!) in which, once again, I realised that a lot of what causes me additional stress comes down to acceptance, be it the (perceived or actual) acceptance from other people or society or self-acceptance, the latter being the most important one given that I have the power to change it, whereas I have no influence whatsoever on the acceptance of others – which I dislike very much. For instance, most of my life, I’ve been doing things that I’m supposed to be doing (e.g. all sorts of group activities) in order to be a fun, social and sociable human being, with the goal of making new connections, trying and seeing new things and places and therefore grow as a person, whereas I don’t need to constantly flood myself with new things, experiences, people and so on. I like my bubble small and I don’t mind repetition and sameness. In fact, too many new impressions tend to overstimulate and therefore stress me. As it turns out, I barely manage to hang out with the people that are already in my life because I have a very high need for alone and quiet time, and I often feel guilty about that.

That doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally seek out and enjoy situations I generally try to avoid, it just means that I have to evaluate if I can afford to do so. Do I have enough energy left in the bank? Will attending make me go into energy overdraft, which I’ll have to pay for the next day? If so, can I afford to do that (e.g. is the next day a workday or do I have any other things planned)? Oftentimes, the answer is no. There are certain things that I can’t skip or that aren’t optional, like going to work (and being productive, in the best case) and taking care of myself (grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning up, taking a shower), both of which require energy. This means that in order to preserve and ideally regain energy, I have to make adjustments outside of these mandatory things. And sometimes, sadly, that means skipping a social gathering, skipping a movie with a friend or going to a concert, even if I’d probably have enjoyed all of these. This can be really hard to do, as it means that I will miss out, by my own doing, even though it’s necessary, and occasionally even more difficult to explain to people, as most people don’t experience the same thing and if they do, it’s usually at a lower intensity or as a temporary state, after a period of heightened stress for example.

To sum up, I find it difficult to exist as a human whose needs are different from what’s considered “the norm”, and the constant outside pressure, whether overt or covert – to be fair, most people operate from what they know, without the intention of stressing me out – makes it difficult to listen to what I need, to place boundaries and, most importantly, to accept myself exactly as I am. There is a strong urge to push myself under the pretence of “getting out of my comfort zone”, which is apparently the gold standard for living a successful and wholesome life, according to many of the gurus out there.

But who says I even want to get out of my comfort zone, when it’s no use whatsoever to me or my well-being? It’s called a comfort zone for a reason, right? It’s where I feel safe(st) to be myself, without the mask, which is what I need in order to be happy and healthy – don’t even get me started on how much of a toll the constant striving for more has not only on my mental but also my physical health.

While I have an array of fun stories from a couple of years ago, back when I was still packing my schedule with activities and powering through the constantly looming (social) burnout, most of my personal growth happened after I stopped running and chasing after the next best thing. I finally got to know myself and what I need without focussing on seeing myself through other people’s expectations of me, finally acknowledging (but not yet fully accepting) that their wants, needs and preferences may differ from mine.
I’m learning to be open to the idea of staying inside (and maybe even taking a nap!) on sunny afternoons and to turn off my alarm and sleep some more in the morning, when I’m not ready to get up and go to work just yet. These sound like little, insignificant adjustments but they’re actually a big deal to me: choosing rest or sleep over productivity and not making the most of every single ray of sunshine are basically acts of rebellion against the way I was raised*.

I may know what I need now, but it doesn’t protect me from occasionally feeling envious of other people’s lives and experiences. A lot of things may well not be for me, but I’d still like to have the option to actively choose not to do them instead of simply having to live differently because I can’t cope otherwise – which may be a remnant of spending my entire life thinking that I need to live a certain way in order to be happy, healthy and successful (all of which are highly subjective, I’m aware). Much of this probably also comes down to FOMO, the fear of missing out. This only as a reminder that while knowing my limits is a very important first step in moving towards a happier life, it is just that: a first step, the beginning of the work.
TGFTM – Thank Goodness** For Therapy Mondays!