Nature Lady...

I woke up this morning feeling anxious. I’m going to see Dr. M., the naturopathic doctor. It’s been a month since I’ve seen Dr. R. and while I’m excited to meet Dr. M., I’m really nervous because I have no idea what to expect. I’ve never done this before.
I go downtown to Intelligentsia to write and see Jeff as he’s opening this morning. It’s good to see him. I don’t stay long before jumping in a cab and heading over to the same building I found myself a month earlier.
Dr. M. is lively and beautiful. Her energetic voice calls out my name as I’m sitting in the large waiting room staring at nothing in particular. I couldn’t even read I was so wound up.
“Ok.” she says, glancing at her laptop which is propped open on her desk. I’m seated across from her admiring her long dark hair. “Let’s talk about PMS and constipation.”
Oh my. No foreplay with this one. I immediately start laughing.
“Oh yeah!” she laughs with me. “I wanna get right down to it!”
I explain everything while she types my responses to the questions she’s firing at me. I notice and she does too that I’m mentioning stress a lot.
“Tell me about this stress.” she looks up from her screen.
I tell her my current stressor is my relationship. I tell her about meeting Jeff, but having a feeling that he’s not the one but.. I’m not willing to leave.
“I have a good relationship, which is why I’m still here. Nothing is really clear to me yet though.” I explain.
“After four months, you’re not going to just “know”. Not everyone has that “feeling” immediately. One day you’ll wake up and you’ll know. Either way, it’ll be clear to you.”
She tells me about how she met her husband. “He was my good friend and we lived in different states. I dated all sorts of people and had a great time. He moved to Illinois and we started dating. Our relationship is drama-free which made me question it. I was so used to feeling crazy that this felt weird because it was so calm. That‘s what it looked like for me. You‘re going to have to figure out what works for you.”
I agree with everything she’s saying. I’m calm with Jeff as well. He’s easy to be around and we have a good time. I can’t shake this feeling though. I want to. I want to be rid of it but it follows me around like a puppy nipping at my heels. Despite my kicking it, snapping at it, trying to escape it, it always finds me again, always nipping…
“Jeff is practically perfection.” I tell her.
“If that’s so then what’s the problem?”
“We’re insanely similar and I’m not sure if that’s going to work long term. I…”
Tears interrupt my words.
“Tell me.” she says.
I want to speak. I want to tell her but I can seem to get the air in my lungs. “…lost the love of my life, Rob, in a car accident.” I say as quickly as possible.
“I’m so sorry.” she says quietly.
I nod, still trying to breathe.
“Are you still in love with him?
Interesting question. Sure my twenty six year old self could be. “Of course I still love him but I don’t wish for another life.”
It’s excruciating to admit that.
“I’m…even though it was a horrible thing to have to go through, I’m glad for the experience because I can’t imagine my life any other way.”
“Are you holding back with Jeff?” Dr M. asks.
“Not entirely. I’ve been able to tell him what I need and want but I feel there is this part of me that is holding back, like there’s some sort of blockage that’s keeping me from moving forward with him. It’s definitely on a subconscious level though. It’s not a decision I’m consciously making.”
“You’re ok. Your relationship is ok and will be ok.” she reminds me. “You’re in a spot where you’re kind of on a fence. Either he’ll ask you to make a decision or you’ll make it yourself. Whatever decision you make you’ll have to commit to. You won’t be able to ride the fence forever.”
True…
“How has your grieving been?”
“I feel it was one of the most healthy times in my life. I cried, I talked to people, I wrote and ran. I didn’t hold anything back and was able to accept the love that people so freely gave. It’s not so much like that now. I keep a lot of it to myself.”
“Ok. I’m going to give you two homeopathic remedies and another supplement to add to what Dr. R has already suggested and a B12 shot.”
I nod as if I know what she’s talking about.
“So. The first one is to help you move through your grief. It’s going to help you experience it and move through any residual stuff that may be there. Also I’m going to give you another one for boundary setting. It’s going to help you find your “voice” and make things a little more clear for you and help you let go and do what’s right for you.”
“Deal!” I beam.
“I’ll be back.” she tells me and leaves for a few minutes, then returning with a clear liquid in a plastic cup and a syringe.
“I want you to sip this. It should be only two sips but let it sit on your tongue for a sec before swallowing.”
I nod, reaching for the cup and following her instructions. It tastes like sugar water. After she injects my hip with B12 we talk about my diet which I hate because I have to explain my compulsive eating and what I eat when I’m not being compulsive and what I eat when I am.
She gives me a list of instructions. I’m trying not to be resistant. I’ll do what she says, I’m just nervous.
When I leave I feel desperate to write, to talk to Jeff, but also just let all of this sink in before doing anything. I walk to a mall on Michigan Ave and get Jeff some peanut butter truffles. I go back to Intelligentsia to write a little bit while he’s finishing up with work. We decide to eat sushi for lunch. I feel much better now than I did this morning.
“How was the doctor?” he asks while we’re walking.
“So good! I’ll tell you about it after we order food though. I hate trying to say a bunch of stuff while walking or being interrupted.”
“Ok, just be warned that I’m really tired and need a nap but I want to give you my full attention.”
“I know, and that crossed my mind. I thought about telling you all of this after you’ve slept some.”
A teeny bit of me wants to hold on to this experience with Dr. M. and not share it. It feels too emotional for some reason and would be easier to just swallow and digest it on my own.
When we’re seated across from each other though, I’m swallowing spicy tuna rolls and he’s telling me about his morning at work.
“Wanna go to the park?” he asks as we finish up.
“Yup!”
It’s bright and a gorgeous sixty seven degrees outside. We lay out in front of the amphitheater at Millennium Park. Everyone else has gotten the same idea as we’re surrounded by people playing Frisbee, eating, napping, running around etc.
Jeff asks me a question and I answer it but he doesn’t hear me because he’s gotten distracted by something. I’m getting aggravated. I’m still holding on to everything I want to say about this morning, sitting on it because I’m waiting for the “perfect” time to tell him. Except there is no perfect time. There is now and there is later.
My phone lights up with a text from one of my sponsees from OA. We’ll call her Stacy. She confesses that she’s been night eating because she’s in so much emotional pain and she’s not sharing it with people. She’s terrified to share the dark parts of her life because she’s afraid people will leave her.
God has impeccable timing doesn’t He?
I have to get over myself and text her back explaining that no matter what, she has to say it. She has to get it out. Why can’t I follow my own advice?
As I text her back I’m thinking “What is it that we’re wanting from people?” What does the perfect situation look like when we want to share things, and get stuff off our chests? I feel with Jeff, I have it. He wants to listen. I believe he’s there for me but then again, I don’t totally open up. I now have to ask myself, “Is it me, or what? Do I have trouble with my words and past issues because I’m not accepting of myself? I feel I’ll never be able to accept someone else’s love because I don’t accept me. It’s like nothing will ever be good enough because I can’t give myself enough love, acceptance or space to simply be and have all my feelings. When I think about the perfect situation it involves lots of listening and understanding when I’m rehashing details from whatever is on my mind. I still don’t feel satisfied though. Again I think it’s because I don’t believe I’m worth anything and don’t feel entitled to having feelings and so when I do, I don’t give them any acknowledgment.
“How are you doing?” Jeff asks on our way to the train.
I don’t give him a straight answer. I explain Stacy and how her texts are taking words right out of my brain, that we’re both having trouble talking.
By the time we get to my apartment I’m ready to crawl out of my skin. I forgot that I have an appointment to get waxed by Jenifer at the Ruby Room at five. (I so love this girl!) I don’t want to go. I want to write. Hell I don’t even want to talk anymore.
Jeff is sitting on my couch telling me he’d like to talk.
“I’m taking a shower.” I announce, thinking I’ll feel better afterward.
Not so much. I’m simply unwilling now and feeling awfully silly about the whole thing. We’re on the couch when I explain that I don’t want to share anymore.
“I’ve been holding it in all day which I realize is my choice but I don’t even want to talk about it now. I‘d rather just write.”
“I still want to listen to you but maybe it’ll be better if you write while I take a nap.” he says.
“OK.”
I go to Lovely and he goes home. Writing is good. I think about Jenifer on my way to see her an hour later. It’s really hard to be a client sometimes. I’m always in work mode, asking a million questions to avoid sharing myself. I decide not to be the service provider but the client today. I’ll tell her whatever I want and will do my best to be ok with it.
“Hi Melissa! Come on back!” Jenifer smiles upon my entering the salon. She shows me into her room and leaves while I remove clothing from my lower half and lay on my back on her table. I stare at a picture on the wall of a dandelion. My fingers find my stomach and push at the knots that inhabit it. Something inside my mind lets go and the tears come. I see in this moment that I haven’t been giving myself room to acknowledge how I feel. I don’t even know what it is I’m feeling but it’s something. A teeny space has opened up to reveal that my constant anger is compensating for something else. What it is, I don’t know. Maybe I do and I just don’t want to admit it.
The door opens and Jenifer walks in just as I had dried my eyes. She looks at me a second longer than usual as if to asses my situation but says nothing.
Our chatting soon starts up though beginning with work. When we get quiet again I relay the events of today to her.
“I don’t know why I don’t want to talk to Jeff about it anymore! It’s like a switch flipped or something.”
She explains it perfect when she says “You were excited when you were excited. Now you’re frustrated because you couldn’t express it when you wanted to.”
“Exactly!” I squeal. “I still don’t want to tell him and I may never tell him, or maybe I will tomorrow. Who knows but even if I tell him, I’m still gonna be pissed.”
“Of course. It won’t be satisfying.”
“Yes!”
“Just wait until you’re ready.”
When I finish with Jenifer I go to Alliance and continue writing. I’ve heard nothing from Jeff and I’m getting hungry. I go get sushi again. Once I’m home I text him.
“I assume I won’t see you tonight.”
This starts a dialogue with him replying saying that he thought I may want more time to write and me responding with I just wanted a more concrete plan regardless.
He calls and we start talking about where we’re each coming from. He felt repelled by me. I got tired of waiting to say stuff to him. We rehash the events of today, breaking it all down. I feel tears threatening again an hour later for reasons I can’t even understand. I blink them back.
Another half an hour later we’re off the phone and I’m eating chocolate. I don’t really want it. I just want to want it. After a few bites I put it away. It’s doing nothing for me.
I try to get still and find a definition for what it is I feel once I’m tucked into bed. I try to get to the place I entered while on Jenifer’s table. I fall asleep though, never getting there.