Oh, I don't know what to title this

Good Evening-and welcome to another installment of my life. This has been a rough week-though I think I am coming out the other side intact.

I have been having such a rush of emotions and feelings that I think I was like a computer that had gotten stuck. I needed to reboot and I think I am running a bit better now-that is until I got an email from my mother announcing that the move to TX is official-and I saw their house listed on Realtor.com. I was hoping for that minute chance that things would fall through-and I know that is mean and inconsiderate-and I don't care! I did muster up A LOT of enthusiasm the last time I spoke to them, and they did offer to help fly us down there to visit.

Then in other news, I just felt like this week I was in the pits. I think I cried every day, and that is just not like me. I saw the shrinky dink on Monday, and then I called to see if she would be willing to see me again this week, and she did. She actually came out in the crappy snow day to see me-and I found out all her other clients canceled, but she still came to see me--I felt special. We had a good session, and she suggested that perhaps instead of looking for all the validation and love from my folks that I will not get, that I allot that energy to other things. Novel Idea-I know. She said that I should not keep asking them how they are-which will inevitably lead to mom telling me how bad she feels, and how this is wrong and that is wrong-yet they do nothing to change their circumstances. Instead I am to talk to them about anything else-the weather, the books I am reading, the things DP and I are doing. Reallocating all this energy is supposed to help me feel better, and realize those around me that do love and care for me. I think next week we will work on how to accept all that . . .acceptance is something I have a hard time with.

Accepting the life I have been given, accepting my medical conditions, accepting the challenges I have each day, accepting the GOOD things, accepting me for who I am. All of who I am. The slightly larger, rounder self. The self that has bags, and sags, and rolls and lumps and zits, and sometimes two chins and a bum shelf.

I also met with the church lady this week. I wanted to meet with her because I had been feeling out of sorts with god. I had been feeling like this sexuality thing is getting in the way of me and god. Not the way others might think, but in the way like this. I don't believe that god would make me gay, and then persecute me for that. With that said, given the hellacious week I was having, I was failing to turn to god. After all, I am going to hell for being a lesbian, so why should I pray. Why should I go to church, why this and why that. So I thought I would meet with the church lady to check things out. I said to her that I felt like I needed to be relying on god right now, but felt like I couldn't. Like it was all fake anyway and didn't mean anything since I couldn't change myself, and would always then be a perpetual sinner in the eyes of the church and god if I didn't change my sinful ways. Her response was very loving and gentle, and she said perhaps I just needed to be open to what god was doing-whatever that was. She didn't say that meant god was going to lead me away from this, or toward this . . that I just needed to be open. Then we got into a discussion about whether I thought god loved me the way I was, and I said no. She then proceeded to tell me that she wondered if I was looking at god much the same way I look at my parents-as judgmental and conditionally loving. She reminded me that god loves me the way I am . . .that's it. Then I went to home team, and we watched a video by one of my favorite people-Rob Bell-and the end of his message was that there is nothing that we can do to make god love us any less. nothing. Ok, I get it.

I started to pray again. Now, I don't feel like I am out of the woods yet, but at least I feel less conflicted about it.