Many bloggers apologize for being “all over the place.” This post seems “all over the place” but I promise I’m going somewhere. I do not promise it’s a place you care to go. Proceed if you wish.
Guess who got offered free therapy yesterday? Moi! (That’s “me” in French).
I feel so blessed. I think my brother had a hand in all this from up above. Here’s why:
My nephew was visiting me at work yesterday (again). We were
working playing at my desk and suddenly he says, “I like butterflies.” Out of nowhere.
“Really Braeden? Me too.” (I really like butterflies. A lot. Seriously <—-.)
It’s not odd for a blue-eyed, blonde chick like me to have a thing for butterflies. It struck me as a bit odd for a two-year old boy to say it while playing Legos. I looked around to see what inspired this thought.
I am consistently festooned and bedecked with butterflies or at least have a doodle of one nearby, but yesterday there was not a butterfly in sight. (I should mark my calendar)
I feel a strong connection with Greg when I’m with his son. Getting a hug from Braeden feels like getting a warm hug from my brother. The “butterfly” comment felt like Greg was giving my heart a little nudge.
I popped over to Facebook and wrote on his wall.(Greg’s friends and love ones still post on his memorialized wall. We admit it’s weird, but it makes sense to us. Whatever helps you cope, right?)
Get all that? No worries I’ll summarize.
“My Aunt Susan sees dead people.” Not really. She’s a big believer in reincarnation and regularly receives messages from people who have passed. It’s uncanny. She gives me goose bumps.
After seeing what I wrote, she felt compelled to call and tell me to “look for yellow. He’s there in the office today.” I kept my mind open for yellow but mostly just went on with my day.
Still wondering why I need therapy?
At 4:30 a long-time client came in (she’s a therapist) and asked if she could talk to me about Greg. Grief counseling, of sorts. Just for 30 minutes. I didn’t want to (it was awkward and I had things to do) but I did because I am polite.
I ended up crying my eyes out and telling her all sorts of things…that’s what always happens to me. She asked if I would come talk to her once a week. For free.
I opened my mouth to say “No. I couldn’t accept your services for free…etc” but something made me pause and think. Really? Why would I turn down this offer?
So I said yes, and felt absolutely positive this was meant to be. Things with my recovery are getting REALLY difficult. REALLY difficult. <—Did I say really difficult? I need any help I can get.
This is a sign in our office complex. It’s always been there, but I rarely drive by it. Yesterday I was parked in a different space so I noticed it.
This sign always makes me smile (Seriously). After my day’s emotional ending it struck me. I need to slow down because I’m approaching my own “blind corner” in recovery. I can’t afford to act rash. I can’t afford to act on my insane
impulse compulsion to lose.weight.now.
Then I tried to make the traffic light and…
it turned yellow.
I didn’t accelerate, I slowed down. It all made sense.
I’m pretty sure I’m charmed.
Or maybe just crazy.
Either way I need to proceed with caution because… did I mention things are getting really hard?
- Psst…Wake up! It’s over. You can go home now. (0: