I keep staring at this workbook my therapist gave me and honestly its just sitting there making me feel guilty. Like somehow Im supposed to magically fix everything by writing down my feelings or tracking my moods or whatever and its just. Not that simple.
Some days the work feels so heavy. Not just my sex work but like the emotional labour of existing. My mum thinks therapy will solve everything but shes never done it herself so how would she know. Its this constant cycle of feeling like Im supposed to be getting better but also feeling totally exhausted by the process.
I dont always know what better even means. Is it being stable. Is it being happy. Is it just surviving. Some weeks surviving feels like an achievement and other weeks I want more than just surviving.
The workbook has these little boxes where youre meant to tick off emotions and rate them and I just look at it and think who actually does this stuff. Who has the energy. Not me right now thats for certain.
Maybe next week will be different. Maybe Ill open it and something will click. Or maybe itll keep sitting here judging me from the corner of my desk.