The phobia I don’t have. Happy Friday the 13th!
So many thoughts rattling around in my head, each deserving of a thoughtful post, but where is the time to write? I am happy to be here, in this space, in this moment, while G is napping and my older son is at Lego day camp. The house is quiet, something it rarely is these days.
I started EMDR therapy last week to treat my crippling Pteromerhanophobia. I was supposed to have another session yesterday but the sitter canceled and the back-up sitter was unavailable, so, next week it is. One specific issue regarding my phobia that we’ll have to address (and, just by attempting a therapy specific to treating it is a BIG step), is that my phobia is its own crutch. I hold on to it because I believe it has kept me alive. In the twisted way that it is interwoven into my life experience, on some level, I feel that the phobia has served me well, protected me, kept me alive by keeping me off airplanes. I know how fucked up that sounds to someone for whom traveling by airplane is a mode of transportation, but to someone who believes their certain death is intrinsically tied to flying, not flying keeps me alive.
My MIL visited from NJ. We kept it a surprise and it was quite fun taking my older son on an adventure (when he thought he was going with me to work-out as he sometimes does) and having him guess what it was. It wasn’t until we were approaching the airport and I told him there were clues all around (in the form of plane traffic) that he eventually figured it out. He was shocked that I kept such a good secret and happy to have his Grammie visit. For my husband’s part, as soon as we arrived home, I texted him that I needed help with the groceries. His mom was sitting in the front seat of the car with the door open and it took him some time to look up, see her and register that she was in our driveway. It was fun and great and a good visit. Normal in every way; a far cry from life with my parents.
I had a lunch meeting with my RE. We have become such good friends and trusted advisers to each other over the last decade and I am always interested to hear the latest research and how the business is changing. He was very receptive to my proposal, saw it as a value add, and wondered if it would be possible to split the role between the clinic and an agency he does business with. Another lunch is forthcoming so we shall see. I can tell you this for sure: it is time for me to get back to work, to contribute financially to our family, and to feed my drive to be productive in a business oriented way. More to come.
There has been no headway in finding my birth father or my husband’s birth father, but I am closer to accepting that my birth mother isn’t going to be of any help. Up to this point, no one in my family was aware that I’d found our birth mothers, let alone made contact. During a recent visit, I shared both stories with my aunt/uncle. My aunt surmised that my birth mother might be trying to protect the family’s assets as there have been cases where adult adoptees have successfully sued their birth parents estate and won. I’d never considered that, but it is probably a factor. That, and I am sure she doesn’t want to open whatever door she closed to my birth father and whatever family he might have. I will continue my pursuit in finding him and my next plan is to post to one of the Search Angel boards.
Summer is already in full swing with long days and good food with good friends and plans to hang out more often. This will be quite a summer for us as a family of four with two kids 5y9m apart in age, one still napping. I foresee a lot of dividing and conquering in our future.
I have pulled back from some friendships (those where I was putting forth way more effort than the other person to keep them going) and, no shocker, the relationships have all but ended. Someone posted a quote to FB at just the time I needed it:
“Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.” – Mark Twain
Tonight is Game 5 of the Stanley Cup finals, with the Kings leading 3-1. Go, KINGS, go!