Notes from Your Therapist

by Allyson Dinneen

Apparently it’s okay to talk about hard things.

No I don’t need advice on how to not feel this way. I just need time to feel it.

“What do you want?” can be a surprisingly confusing or painful question if no one ever asked you that and really cared about your answer.

I can tell I’m not really listening to you if I’m already planning my response in my head.

I’m still learning that it’s okay for people to feel upset with me and not have that mean I’m a bad person.

Here are some examples of things I’m always practicing: How to say what I mean, as simply as possible, and not make people guess (even if I think they should). How to reach out when I want to shut down. How to just let myself feel sad, lonely, confused, a mess, when I would rather do this thing I always do and check out.

I’m afraid to set boundaries with _________ because they will feel _________ and I will feel _________. (But people are allowed to feel _________ or _________!) (And you’re allowed to have boundaries.)

I often think we’re really seeking one main thing: people whose eyes, when they see us, light up with delight.

The very idea of not being productive at all times was so frowned upon, it was no wonder I had to sneak off to the woods or hide with a book in a closet to daydream or do nothing. I declined then, and I decline now, the invitation to think of myself in such an economical or mechanistic way. That’s not my measure of a human being.

I try to minimize the amount of time I spend around people who would like me better if I weren’t me.

You’re not “bothering” me by talking about how you feel. It might be hard for me but I can do hard things.

The best thing about getting older is giving in to how desperately I need to live life on my own terms.