The Valleys

I had a job interview today for a job I feel very excited about. I am not sure how the interview went though because it was at 2:00 pm. That seems to consistently be about my max out point on optimum cognitive functioning these days and that is very frustrating.
I felt I was doing better than this before the set back of my therapist dumping me.... not up to pre-accident but better than this. I am not sure what set me back more, that or the ankle and 7 weeks of not being able to get much movement in, trying to allow one part of my body to heal at the expense of the other (again).
As far as my mood stability I have been doing immensely better this last week.
Taking the time to stand up for myself, writing it out, even though it was ignored, misconstrued, or misinterpreted, yet again,  still helped me. It helped me know that I am worth it to myself to stand up for and to keep trying for myself even when I know the odds are against me. I feel good and positive about trying and making the effort to say what I felt I needed to and what was right to me even knowing that it most likely would not matter to them and knowing that they don't care and see no value to me or what I have to say.
I suppose it is empowering how hard they are working to restore the "imbalance of power" he is supposed to have over me...but that I apparently have over him or them.
It is very silly really.
Their attempts to restore and maintain the imbalance of power is the unethical issue here.
Good thing I am so powerful
or at least smart enough to see what the ethical issues are.
I feel bad for them, they feel so threatened and insecure, and they are not even sure what the threat is.
It is their own misconception of power and their fear of others who do not conform to their mold.
They are stuck in the king of the hill game that I feel hurts our society and culture. They may feel it too, but they feel forced to play, not realizing that the only way we will ever stop the perpetuation of this damaging game is to either a. stop playing or b. play differently.
I still like the idea of helping each other up and sharing the hill instead of constantly knocking everyone one down, perceiving them as a threat.
This hill in particular is important to me personally and I don't like that I know people who are vulnerable and there for help are going to get knocked down by misinterpretations of power struggles or rigid rules on treatment terms that are only in place to capitalize financially; not to help them to the individual extent they need.
...So in my game I will help you up, hoping this time you don't knock me down. We can discuss our rules and maybe we can negotiate but if you insist on knocking me down again and again, and in playing that way, I'll walk away from you as well.
Maybe someday I'll find a hill that is a good fit and has room for me. But even if I don't I think I'm pretty okay with walking these valleys and loving the souls I find down here.
Down in these valleys you find all sorts; but mostly we are not weak, we are kind by choice.

Transference in A Thousand Years

I want to make my own music video to this song. Christina Perri: A thousand years
About transference. The kind where you need to learn to love yourself.
I listen to this song and visualize the good of what was happening in therapy. The part that I needed [maybe] most.
Christina Perri: A thousand years

I see myself sitting in the waiting room.
My therapists comes out where he usually does, sometimes looking a little ragged and worn down sometimes looking just normal. I am happy to see him, always.  I smile at him, standing there alone. He returns the smiles with the light in his eyes that I love to see.
As I walk toward him it becomes apparent that he is holding a mirror the mirror that then turns into a full length mirror and I am there alone staring at myself.
My smile disappears as I realize he has disappeared. I look behind the mirror and then back into the mirror.
He is there, in the mirror with his hand outstretched. I take his hand and he pulls me through the mirror. He turns me around to face myself again, this time I'm looking at myself from the other side of the mirror. I turn back to my therapist but he points me once again to face myself.
I then see myself the way my therapist has been trying to help me see myself.
I see that I am worth loving and I am beautiful in my own way.  I see that it is okay to love my perfectly imperfect self, and even that I have and can continue to.
I walk out the front side of the mirror rejoining my real self and my therapist walks out the back.

I think this is how the story is supposed to end.

...But in my story, I looked back.

and I noticed the pain in my therapist's eyes as I looked back. I trusted his strength, but I also felt his hesitation to turn me around and his vulnerability as he leaned just slightly on me. I felt his fear and his pain as he then carefully pushed me away to regain his own footing.  I realized how hard his job is. Unfortunately, he didn't notice that my concern for him had distracted me, and my split self had not fully rejoined the me that was walking away strong. 

And as he left to retreat back to his office the mirror fell and shattered and the now split me is left facing the closed door he escaped through while strong me doesn't make it too far before the unaddressed brain damage and reality of the split takes me down and I am left into a millions pieces of shiny glass- glass that was supposed to melt and fade away as we both went our seperate ways- but that I am now stuck in, alone and wondering what I did wrong and how to fix it. How to put my millions of tiny pieces, now etched with his name on them, back together so that I can have me again. So that I can rejoin and reclaim the new and better me that was supposed to walk strong and imperfectly perfected. 

...."you can listen to it while you cry yourself to sleep tonight" I say but it's not about him at all, I am speaking of myself; evidence of how enmeshed and entangled I am in this complex psychological web.

... I don't think about that part when I listen to this song. Rather, I try to see the whole me and leave with that me fully intact, loving myself for a thousand years and loving my therapist as my past therapist and simply that.
Maybe I need to listen to it more.
Or maybe less.
But mostly I need to accept and love the me that I am, broken into brilliantly shiny pieces or not.