- a major meltdown just once a week now;
- going back to the gym (QMM's hangout area).
And now...I no longer depend on my Therapy Bag. TB, as I affectionately called it in my mind; yes, I know, that sounds kind of gross. That's why I never said to anyone "hey, I'm coming over and I'm carrying TB with me". I mean, really, how wrong does that sound?
TB was very important to me. It was a bright pink, obscenely oversized carrying bag. In it, I had crammed items that I felt helped me and without which I could not survive. It contained numerous, totally unrelated items. TB carried a crochet hook and afghan I was working on, a needlepoint kit, a book to read, a copy of the Quran, a drawing pad with a set of drawing pencils, a journal, and my laptop. That's all!
I lugged TB around wherever I went. I would start panicking just thinking about stepping out of the house without my precious TB (and yes, I know that still sounds gross). Wherever I went, so did my TB. Wherever TB was , that's where I was.
The items in there were at my disposal to help me focus, I guess, on something other than the reality I wanted to escape from. Anything to get my thoughts away from my living nightmare.
I don't know when, but I no longer rely on TB anymore. I don't even recall when I stopped depending on TB and the items it contained. But TB helped me at a time when I needed it the most. This big, bulky, bright pink bag was my best friend in the worst situation.
Thanks TB. I hope I never need you again.
I applaud your progress in any way you measure it, but darling, I'm here to represent for Therapy Bag. We all need a Therapy Bag, in a way. I panic if I walk out of the house without a writing utensil, paper and something to read. Now, I'm in no way relating my TB with your TB, or my need for aids with your need for aids, but I dunno...don't worry if you need it again, or some form of it or pieces of it. Art, comfort, craft all come from those "aids." Good stuff in that TB, stuff worth revising time to time.
ReplyDeleteThat being said, I'm so happy you're feeling a little stronger. love you lots and lots.
You are brave to even write about your TB. And even braver to not depend on it though if in a jam, you know you can throw it in the trunk of the car. You have made a step. I embrace your blog every time I sit to read it with so much love for you and your family, for your stoic but humorous slant that seems to be creeping back in. You are entitled to move on, and sometimes you are entitled to have TB. xo
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