My Therapy

I’m reading this book right now, Girl, Wash Your Face, and the author, Rachel Hollis, strongly suggests that we all (she’s speaking to women) need some (a lot of) therapy.  Since I can’t afford therapy, I thought, maybe I’d just start writing out what I would tell a therapist if I could afford one.  Maybe that’s all I need. And this idea was born.

I’ll write a little post every couple of days to unburden myself, to talk to someone, and to avoid paying the cost of therapy.  You can read it or just delete it, whichever pleases you more. I think the success for me will just be letting it out.

So, here goes.  Today was one of those days.  I knew it was one of those days when it started.  You know the feeling -- the rock in the pit of your stomach that just won’t go away.  It’s a sense of foreboding that just follows your every thought. That was today.

Then the rock, the foreboding came to fruition, and the little voice in my head repeated over and over that my best is just not good enough.  And I felt my skin heat up, my heart beat wildly, and my blood pressure rise - like I might just have a heart attack right there at work.  Seriously, I’ve learned more this year than many people learn in a lifetime. I mean, I’ve spent the last ten months, reading, Googling, trying and erring, all to learn how to do things I’ve never done before.
We took over a restaurant and a golf course - not just one business, but two - two businesses that I knew nothing about.  So in ten months, I really have learned more than most people learn in lifetime. I have a ton more to learn And, I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve made more mistakes in the last ten months than most people make in a lifetime.  But, one thing I do, one thing I’ve always done, is I’ve given my all - actually more than my all. I don’t sleep - I work. I don’t play - I research. I don’t do anything but give this new adventure my best. So I was feeling the weight of judgment.

Here’s where life gets good.  What do I do with that kind of weight, that kind of judgment, that kind of (well, yeah) pain?  I grabbed my clubs, I grabbed a golf cart, and I headed out to hit nine holes. A nice hit down the fairway, a divot of grass flying through the air, the wind in my face, and a deep breath of fresh air out in the middle of nowhere -- that’s the beauty of golf.  Even those three balls that plopped into the pond on hole #2 - one right after the other - even those brought a smile to my face.

By the time I finished nine holes, I saw myself anew as a young child with pink cheeks ready to come in from playing in the chilly fall weather, and I smiled.  I didn’t check the mirror, but I’m pretty sure my runny nose, watery eyes, and wind-burned cheeks didn’t make me look at all like a young child, but I still smiled.  

Sometimes, we just need to get away from it all.  Sometimes we have to hit something - hard. Sometimes we just need to smile, even when - maybe especially when - it’s one of those days.  Because somewhere deep inside, when we take the time to search, we know we are good enough, just the way we are - that our best is good enough, and that’s no one else’s call but our own.

So there, my therapy worked today.  I feel better. Thanks! We’re heading out to visit both the mothers tonight.  That’ll probably require a whole other session. I’ll let you know!
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