Earlier this year I had a couple of sessions with a shrink. She was lovely, kind, fierce and made perfect sense. But I’m a stubborn fuck and I didn’t have enough time with her for me to take onboard what she said and apply the changes I need to in order to live a happier life.
On my last session, I asked her for some final words of wisdom. She told me to be kinder to myself; something my mum has been telling me for years. No matter how hard I try, I can’t shift this guilt. It’s almost constant.
The ex husband is still very important to me and I can’t shift the guilt I feel for failing our marriage. I watch the beans lolling and playing and feel so much joy that is then swiftly replaced with guilt, guilt that he’s not seeing this with me.
Whenever I spend any money the guilt comes in with full force. At the moment I’m living down the penny, everything is budgeted for…which includes mummy’s very important stash of jiggle juice. I’m not gonna stop buying it, but I’m sure as shit gonna feel like a selfish mum for doing it.
Some days I crave bed time, I stare at the clock waiting for 7:30. I put them down, rush their stories and sing their songs really quickly; just to go and sit on the sofa and feel like a prick for not treasuring the moments and wishing the time to pass.
I wanna hit my head up against a brick wall! I tell myself to stop winging, grow a pair of tits and just accept that this is life. I know I’m wasting it, at the end of the day what is the point in guilt? What does it achieve? Dick all, that’s what it achieves.
The shrink also told me to stop obsessing with being fat. She thinks it’s all a focal point for something else and that if I got skinny and beautiful, I’d only project the hatred on to another part of me. She’s convinced that’s it’s deeper than the fact that I simply have the body of a woman who has indeed, eaten all the pies.
Being the stubborn prick I am, I can’t believe that. Figures don’t lie at the end of the day I still wear a size 16 and I still make a picnic bench sink when I sit on it.
The point I can take from it is that maybe I would only hate other things more. Focus on my stupidly small head, my wonky nose or my flat arse.
So anyway…the point of this depressingly disgusting post is to ask you, how can I be kinder to myself? How can I change the habit of a life time? To me it seems fucking impossible.