In truth, I wrote this at the beginning of March, but I did not actually post it until a month later. So, when I talk about specific days, know that you are reading a month behind! I have been reading a lot and taking an intensive class to become a Certified Personal Trainer. It is track season for my son, and I have been pretty busy and involved with the soccer league I co-run. And, I have been spending more time in the gym again since my gut issues are generally under control (knock on wood!).
First, I want to say I’m having weird emotions right now. I’m sure that I’m probably in the throes of perimenopause or something. I don’t know what my body is doing, though, because I take birth control to deal with endometriosis symptoms as well as erratic motility problems associated with a partially paralyzed small and large intestine.
Anyway, back to the point. I went to the gym this morning and had a conditioning plan. First, row 500m to warm up. Then, row 2000m for a time trial. After that, a short metcon that included 4 rounds of 8 kettlebell swings, 8 goblet squats, 8 close-grip chest press, and 16 (8 and 8) Russian twists with a medicine ball. Finally, I stepped on the treadmill. My goal was to alternate between walking and running for 30 minutes, hitting specific heart rate zones for set durations. All this is probably boring, I know, but stick with me for my short story here. So, anyway, I started walking first and thinking about my blog post (the part that follows this story). I wasn’t processing much from my external environment, beyond visually tracking my heart rate to stay in the zone I wanted. Suddenly, my brain cued in on the song that was playing in my earbuds. So here’s this 44-year-old woman with her heart rate currently at 190 beats per minute, and tears start streaming down my face. I’m a sweaty person, so it was probably easy to miss. I was really self-conscious, though. Who is just running along, thinking about a recap of what should go in the next blog post, listening to some music my mom and mother-in-law would certainly not approve of (it’s more about the beat to help me keep a cadence), and suddenly I am SOBBING. The name of the song is Keep Coming Back by Rob Bailey and the Hustle Standard, if you are curious. The song just struck a nerve and made me think of my brother, who passed away.
Okay, so now for my real update…
Tim and I met with the sex therapist this past Monday. I was feeling anxious, especially because I had asked multiple times for what I believed would be most helpful, and I didn’t feel heard. In fact, I felt that the therapist would only ask “clarifying questions” as a means to steer me in her direction rather than to truly understand. Tim and I sat down in the newly rearranged office, and I found myself feeling more comfortable with just the setup. We started right in discussing the purpose/plan for me to have the ability to talk 1:1 with someone to work through what I haven’t yet processed, don’t have words for, and feel very confused by. I explained that I had assumed I would meet individually to work through some things and then begin couples’ sex therapy. It made no sense to need to see a therapist for sex therapy but only do couples counseling (you know, “can you please unload the dishawher without being asked?!” stuff). We were in couples counseling. I needed actual sex therapy, and I want to just do what needs to be done. Ultimately, Tim helped explain why individual help is so important to me. He articulated the issue much better than I did, and in the end, the therapist said it would be something she’d be willing to do, meeting individually here and there as needed. I walked out of there feeling so much better. And my resting heart rate at night finally dropped into the 70s! That was a huge load off, but there was more uneasiness I had been sitting with.
After writing my last blog post, I shared it with Dr. C. I was addressing the need to deal with a perceived rupture for me. I sent her the link and was concerned I might have misrepresented what happened or been disrespectful. In the last 8 years, we’ve had some ups and downs. I’ve been angry, frustrated, sad, excited, etc. I have a ton of respect for her, and the last thing I’d want to do is attempt to process my experience with writing and not represent her as she is. As angry and hurt as I have felt, I have also continued to refer people to her. In my opinion, she is one of the best clinicians in the area (and beyond).
I didn’t publish the blog post without first actually communicating with Dr. C. that I was going to make it public, and I tried to make sure she knew my intention. Again, my respect for her is rooted in a deep history of trust and experience, so even in the midst of a perceived rupture, I wanted to try to handle things differently than I already had. See the previous blog post for that information.
So anyway, in our next session, she and I faced the rupture head-on. I think I communicated much more clearly why I felt the way I did and what meaning I had assigned to the situation. She acknowledged what it was like for me, and I felt as though the ability to have a rational conversation without heightened emotion and accusation cleared the tension and anxiety I felt. I know Dr. C. does not and did not intend to hurt me, but the fact is, just like in any relationship, ruptures happen. She has taught me a lot about handling difficult situations, and for that I am grateful.
We have more work to do, and I am grateful for the opportunity to continue having her invest in my life, healing, and growth.
Burn the Boat! 