schoolpsychnerd: (del)
schoolpsychnerd ([personal profile] schoolpsychnerd) wrote2016-06-02 09:00 pm

I'm not standing still, I am lying wait

The theme at last night's meeting was trust, and I spoke about learning to trust myself. Well apparently I'm getting a crash course in that...

First off, our EDA meeting is usually chaired by an intern at The Awakening Center. We've had an amazing chairperson this past year who really helped make the meeting into something incredible. Her internship ended last night. Last week she approached me to chair the meeting. Chairing the meeting is overall WAY less complicated than the groups I run at school. I'm mostly responsible for opening the space and letting people in. We have an amazing group of regulars and there's a ton of trust in that meeting. I think if I felt super ready and like "well duh, of course I should" then it would mean I am the last person who should chair that meeting. I feel humbled, honored, somewhat ready, and nervous. It's all natural.

Then today during therapy my therapist lets me know that she is changing jobs at the practice. She'll still be in the practice but she won't be seeing clients anymore. She an incredible therapist and I am happy for her, but I'm also freaked out. I've been working with her for three years now, she has seen me through so much. There are a lot of options here, transitioning to a new therapist, going to a new therapist who I may see less frequently, discontinuing therapy for a bit, and all the shades in between. She expressed that she feels so confident that I am ready, that I can be ok and that I now hold the hope that I will be ok on my own instead of having her hold it for me. Again, a part of me knows this is true and a part of me is screaming internally that this is not true at all. I am a Monet painting where from far away I look totally together but am a total hot mess up close. Yet there are not many people who know me up close better than my therapist.

It's all scary. It's all somewhat terrifying. And I would be lying if I said I didn't feel like a huge impostor. Who am I to chair a meeting? Who am I to discontinue therapy entirely? Who am I to act like I am healthy and not a mess when...you know, I don't feel like a hot mess inside. I can feel the fear sitting in my throat. I can feel the tears behind my eyes. But it all feels...not larger than me. It all feels mention-able and therefore has the potential to be manageable. I'm so afraid to acknowledge progress or how much I've made because I'm more afraid of being wrong than anything else.

When I listen to Hamilton, I always find myself really identifying with Burr on some level. I think I'm overall a bit more proactive than Burr, but the part where I am keeping my plans close to my chest, the part where I am waiting for it, is to say that I've made progress.

[identity profile] drydem.livejournal.com 2016-06-06 09:24 pm (UTC)(link)
One of the hardest things to determine is when you're ready for something. It's easy to wait until everything seems absolutely perfect, but that sometimes means missing the moment.
Part of it is the difference in perception between within and without. We see all of the things other people put up to shield their inner doubts. It's easy to forget that everyone has doubts and fears, worries that they aren't able or worthy.
For my own part, I try to trust those who know me well when they say I'm ready. And know that you have folks around who believe in you and are here to help if you need it.