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I came away from today’s counselling session with a lot to think about.

I have over the last few weeks been rather good with tangible achievements. I’m quite organised at writing a job list for the week of both work and domestic and then ticking them off, hopefully before the end of the week.

Where I fail, is with things that are just for me, that don’t even get on the list. These are: writing this blog, exercise, cooking and intuitive eating.

So question: why don’t they make the list?
They’re intangible in the sense that I can’t get to the end of the week and tick them off as completed although I could tick off exercise sessions, which is why I write the Diary post. They somehow don’t count as much and I don’t feel that sense of achievement at having done them. Is that because I don’t value myself enough to consider them important or is there more to it? (read further…).

So next question: what gave me a sense of achievement as a child? I struggle to remember any praise from my father, although I can hear the criticism; he always wanted to talk about the 5% of marks lost rather than the 95% earned (read further…). I think my mother would say “well done”, although I can’t remember a specific example, nor can I remember it meaning anything. I do remember the time at primary school when I had to do my homework downstairs so it could be checked as it wasn’t good enough. I remember cheating at an exam (aged 11-12 ish) and nothing been said. Is it unfair to say I was never praised, or do I simply not remember it? I certainly can’t think of anything outside of school that warranted it.

I’m also aware that I talk a lot more about my father than my mother in sessions (read further…).

Did I only get attention when I wasn’t doing well and did that mean that I failed deliberately? I know I did for my A’ levels as my father wanted me to go to Oxford whereas I didn’t, but also didn’t want to have the argument, so on some level I stopped working as hard. Of course the fact that I was fairly miserable at the time might have had something to do with it too (blogpost needed).

There was a failure of communication between my parents and myself. There still is. I currently think, when it comes to certain topics, especially those that are personal and emotional, that they won’t understand so there’s no point in trying. So I don’t try and they don’t understand and the vicious circle develops or continues. As an older child they always used to talk about trying to get blood out of a stone as being how hard it was to get me to talk. They would sit me down and have a little formal talk with me, never let things creep up in conversation. I felt talked at, rather than to, and dreaded this occasions. I still don’t enjoy them but tend to exercise a little bit more free will (blogpost needed).

Another question that came up as I walked away today was how many times have I actually stood up to them? Blogpost needed, but I can count 3 so far.

And why have I put ‘blogpost needed’? Well, so I have specific blogposts on next week’s task list of course. Maybe I’ll write them too.

P.S. I thought I published this on Friday night. Clearly I didn’t press the right button. Here it is, 24 hours late.