Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep, really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be as wholly alive with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell. And when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.
— Ernest Hemingway
Welcome to my blog. After my assault, I vowed to stay away from drugs and alcohol to cope. Turns out, bad coping mechanisms come in many forms. Shit might get real on here – raw, ugly, funny, and hopeful. I’m embarking on a year of mindful spending to take back my life, share the scary and funny moments, and hopefully some successes along the way.
Years ago after my assault, I visited a centre geared towards sexual assault victims. They set me up with a counsellor and I hated her on the spot. I’ve always been pretty self aware and she tried to re-interpret everything I said. At least it felt that way. It’s possible that I was a wee bit more defensive then than I am now. I saw her once and never went back. I did a lot of hard work on my own. I taught myself how to sleep in a bed again (it took over a year), I de-sensitized myself to males speaking with French accents (I was assaulted by 2 French men) by listening to French music CDs in my car and sobbing until they didn’t make me sob anymore. I resorted to risky sex and became a swinger and casual sex-er for awhile until I decided that was an overall bad idea and extremely emotionally and morally unhealthy for me. I dabbled in controlling the things I could control (picture freezers and cupboards and closets stocked up with everything you could possibly need for an imminent zombie apocalypse). I worked out a lot and controlled my nutrition – these I would like to get back to because they were the healthiest things I did and I felt my best doing them.
In any event, about a year ago I decided that I needed to see someone about my spending. It was a crutch that stuck and one that was becoming crippling. The therapist I started with was amazing but took a maternity leave. She set me up with someone she thought would be a “good fit”. Enter Veronica. She was lovely. She had a history in art therapy. eek.
For those of you who know me well, you’ll know that in the various stages of artistic development (at least as far as drawing skill goes), I am stunted at the level of approximately a 6 year old. Art therapy *gulp*. I decided that these folks know what they’re doing and I should keep an open mind.
The first time Veronica asked if I would be ok with moving over to the art table I wasn’t sure if I should run away, shit my pants, or vomit on the table. I mean, as far as tables go its a lovely, sturdy wooden structure with huge sheets of blank paper and an array of art-creating mediums such as paint, crayons, pencil crayons, pastels, markers etc. I can’t remember what the task was that day (it had something to do with body image) but my art brain was terrified and I sat staring at the page. Veronica suggested I make a list instead. I had assumed that some of the body issues I was having were a direct result of my assault. Turns out, my conscious brain was so terrified about making the art that my unconscious brain had the opportunity to barf up a lot of other stuff. In nerdy list form no less. Then I re-framed all of the negative ideas. I felt accomplished. I started the session with Veronica skeptical, missing my first therapist and thinking “you’ve gotta be kidding me”. At the end of the session, I booked another one.
Fast forward several sessions. Veronica said “if your debt was a creature, what would it look like?”. I gave the art table the stink eye and grabbed a pencil crayon. You can see from my picture that I suck at drawing. Its some blob with big teeth and it’s on fire… in the way a 6 year old would draw it. I decided to draw myself in as an afterthought underneath the creature because it seems weighty to me. Turns out, it ended up eating my face. I laughed pretty hard that day. There was more art created. Art that showed how I was going to kick that monster’s ass.
Cue in my year of mindful spending. I’ll outline all the rules for you in my next post. Stay tuned
#slayingthedebtmonster, #debthasbigteeth #debt #money #trauma #yearofless
