Blue, Part Two

Today's been difficult, a confluence of sadness and irritation, plummeting self-confidence and escalating fear. I've felt insecure with Astrid, who for her part has been cranky with me since yesterday, ornery 'cause she feels like she has no space and time for herself, especially since her summer work schedule has been so hellish. I've in turn been pouty and needy and self-involved to the nth. We had planned to go to a queer tango event, and at the last minute I said I felt ambivalent about going. And I was ambivalent, am almost always ambivalent about going dancing, because it touches so many tender spots for me: it makes me feel clumsy, self-conscious of my body and doubtful of my capacity to learn new things, to be open to change, to be open to what Astrid needs. I want to be able to shut off my symbolic thinking, focus on the moment, the dancing, the feeling of being in Astrid's arms as she leads me on the floor, but every misstep, every blunder feels like failure, feels like I'm not good enough, I'll never be good enough.

And then I get even more angry at myself and withdrawn, because I've heard this all before. This internal monologue of punishment is so fucking old and tired and old and old and old. And then I remember that this is exactly what I'm not supposed to do, what I tell my therapy clients all the time: feel your feelings of sadness, of fear, but don't pile self-hatred on top of it. Be kind to yourself. Feeling fear, feeling grief, is okay. It's not going to disintegrate you. Neediness is not going to drive your lover away. Be gentle to yourself. Be curious about your feelings. Breathe.

Too many good byes of late, and too much imminent uncertainty. P.'s death just two weeks ago, still reeling internally from ending my two years at the clinic, saying good-bye to my supervisor and to my colleagues. And I'm mourning my changing relationship with Minoba, and missing her. It's all weighing heavily. And then there's this craziness of starting my own therapy practice. Who the fuck is gonna pay me $90 to listen to them for fifty minutes, for christ's sake?

I did end up tangoing today. I'm glad I did, though it wasn't free from the above anxiety and sadness. I had fun; I always enjoy it more than I think I will going into it. And Astrid was glad I came, I guess. She said so, anyway, and she's good on her word. Just wish I believed it today.