Sunday, October 25, 2015

Time to Recalibrate: Retail Therapy isn't Real Therapy

Are you Christmas shopping yet? I am.


Last year was the first year I used the internet to shop. This year, I have already ordered.


Work has created enough anxiety for me recently, that agonizing over presents and prices is not something I want to do!


I have had my eye on the "perfect" gifts for my nieces for a month now. They are Animal Babies. Link to the giraffe I went into the store and there was a sale on the item, but the store did not carry the giraffe, nor the white tiger. I went to the store's website and they did not list all of their on-shelf items, and not even a whisper of these particular toys. So, it was back to my amazon cart; always faithfully holding these items for me. I found better prices and clicked "proceed to checkout". Done.

How did I unwind this weekend?

I went to a concert. The parking garage had me on edge. I'm NOT a parking garage person. I don't have much experience with these 'city' things! But I did okay.

Colton Dixon

Britt Nicole

Toby Mac and Hollyn
It was so much fun! I took my sister and youngest son. It was his first concert. Mommy-son bonding time! Plus, I have always wanted to go to a Toby Mac concert. Always. I get to check this off my bucket list. <3 p="">
How should I be unwinding?

Writing.

At the concert, I was reminded of my dreams and desires. I threw off the anxieties and pressures of late, and I was open to listening to my heart instead of my mind. We were asked what our dreams were and challenged to live what we love and have a passion for.

With all the depression and anger and anxiety at work, I have been seeking solace in retail therapy; getting items for my classroom, for my nieces for Christmas, and even needed clothes for my boys. I have also been watching Netflix shows and Hulu, and I have been reading. None of these are real therapy. None of these solve any problems, push me forward, nor help me reach my dreams. They are escapist, avoidance behaviors.

I haven't been writing. Not a blog, not a letter, not a ficlatté. I have worked on them sporadically, but not like earlier in the year.

I have felt more like a lost soul than ever.

That's not right.

This is not me.

It's time to re-calibrate.

I'm beginning here. I wrote this blog post. I am going to finish a letter to my friend. Then I'm going to open up Ficlatté in a web browser and type something. (ficlatte.com) I'm going to reclaim myself. Writing is a way to deal with the feelings. Most of my dreams and goals are author-related. My empathetic being cannot keep pouring myself out to my students, my tutoring students, and my family, and never fill myself back up.

I need to dream, to live, to love, and to be happy again. My therapy, real therapy, is inside; and is expressed through writing, journaling, and drawing.

This is who God made me.
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