I passed my exam! I can't fucking believe it! I'm incredibly grateful. To the universe. To my brain*. To the goddess. Writing it down makes it feel real. I passed. I passed! I passed!
*If I can make it through a clinical doctorate and pass boards with a relationship on fire, a young elementary-age child, pregnancy, recovering from a C-section, aggressive lack of support from my spouse, and the total bullshit S and N put me through in the month leading up to the exam maybe - just maybe I'm going to be a cracker (Irish use, non-derogatory) OT and this was all meant to be.
...I also completed my license application (another 400-some-odd dollars *eyeroll emoji*) so once that's approved I can start applying for jobs. Or maybe I can already? Unclear. Will start working on my resume today, though, so we can start The Process tomorrow.
Things are somewhat better with S. My hormones are driving the bus at the moment. I don't know exactly what makes one postpartum different than another (aside from...everything), but this postpartum is characterized by more desire for Adult Time than the other one. This has been a welcome distraction from Everything Else, and maybe a means of avoiding thinking about/dealing with Everything Else, if I'm honest. Slightly more presence, much more kindness, better communication (although it's not always All That), and lots of verifying which...so far...has held up.
That being said I do find myself thinking about OMGate pretty consistently. I'll be minding my business, going about my day** when I will think to myself, Ah. It was only 5 weeks ago that S was flirting with someone else and moving towards having an affair and completely dynamiting our marriage. Jesus FUCKING Christ. and there's a tingly body sensation that goes along with that and panic (although that has subsided in intensity over the past 5 weeks, I will say). And sometimes details will suddenly click and I'll feel a little stabby sensation and feel kind of barfy as well; for instance, a couple of days ago I realized that a pair of underwear he'd gotten me the year previous had the logo of the band the girl (woman? Idk man, leave my millennial ass alone.) in question plays in emblazoned on it. I mean, cool concept - they're like tightie-whities with the piss hole and everything and the logo sprayed on the front. When I'd got them I thought they'd probably work for, like, a burlesque curtain call getup with maybe thick-rimmed black glasses and knee-socks. Like a Velma-type thing, you know? But knowing what I know now reframes them, and I threw them away. Because: barf.
**Which consists of errands, doctor's appointments, playdates, reading, playgrounds, hiking-lite (because it is a summer half-underwater and getting L, N, and S to fucking go out and do Alaska things we live in Alaska goddammit is not easy, fun, or intuitive), going to tha gym/jogging, paperwork, cleaning, curating our belongings, and starting to play Disco Elysium. I've heard good things. I'm 20 minutes in and that's about as far as I can get before I must minister to The Infant. So: yeah. So far so good.
And, yes, I know there wasn't anything explicitly happening at the time, but I also know that, as per K (the woman; I really need to tighten up my consistency with all this, but I'm lucky to be able to get the baby asleep to be able to process via typing at all so - shush!) the show these were bought at was when she "wanted to get to know S but didn't have his number!" so there was, like, some attraction. No doubt.
And, no, maybe I shouldn't ask questions I don't want to know the answers to, but I'm going to figure out the answers sooner or later whether I want to or not, so it's probably better if it comes from you, compadre. What will I do with the answers? I dee fucking kay, but it's:
My witchy therapist (whom I like very much so far) has let me know that her way of processing trauma is most closely related to talk therapy - which is fine. I've done EMDR and IFS in the past, but I think this will be fine. There's some DBT sprinkled in too, which is somewhat helpful. But I have noticed a tendency on my part to start looking for patterns in a meta-intellectual sense rather than taking the emotional road. And, hey - self? That's the whole reason we're here. E.Mo.Shuns. Emotions.
I'm struggling to talk about OMGate with anybody much. I've talked to two people about it. I had an opportunity to talk more about it with some newer friends, but it felt complicated because they were kind of S's friends "first" in my head? And I know for a fact that AA peeps are supposed to have unconditional positive regard for each other. Which, maybe they would regardless. I, myself, would have a hard time with that, though, because of the strong sense of justice. For instance, if you told me that your spouse did the shit he did, I would want to avoid them at best and probably have preeeeeeeetttty strong feelings about it. So I kept it vague, going with overarching themes of want to release low confidence and bring more desire and being desired into my life. I think they thought it had more to do with my postpartum x2 body. Which, sure, isn't going to land me any Sports Illustrated covers, but I don't feel all that bad about it. It does the things I need it to do, and I have great tits and a rocking ass, so, #blessed. I'm pretty funny if not as present as I'd like to be, medication has done wonders for my overall ability to self-regulate, and I'm fairly smart and have good rhythm. That's probably enough, right? Right.
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