The title of today´s blog is borrowed from Lana Del Rey´s song which struck a chord in me this morning, and this is the photograph I want to match it to:
I am struggling.
Being in psychotherapy is like opening a 10,000-piece puzzle. From the outside, everything looks picture-perfect, contained, structured, and whole. Open the box, however, and you are suddenly confronted with all these pieces that form a single mess and no idea how and where to begin. All it took was one event to drive me to open that box and face the crumbled puzzle that my life has become, be overwhelmed by all the disconnected pieces.
My father was never one to play with me, and on the very rare occasions that we could spend time together puzzles and board games were the only option. They were not intended to be fun moments but learning experiences, a time to use math, organization and strategy. As a result, I grew to hate board games as a grow-up and never managed to see the fun in them. When it came to puzzles, Daddy always insisted on starting with the corners. Find the four corners first and then work on then entire outer edge to connect them, then you have a working structure, then you sort them all by colour or pattern, with or without straight edges. Six months into therapy, I can say I have found the four corners and am working on the edges to connect them all. I still have the unholy mess inside to deal with, but the sense of purpose and structure is there.
Anyone battling depression will tell you that there are good days and there are very low and dark days. More often than not it is more of a phase that translates into weeks rather than one day, and I just have to plough through. At the moment I feel as though I am treading water in the middle of the ocean, knowing that if I stop at any point I will drown.
I am struggling.