Health, Wealth, Love and Self-Expression

I can't even remember where I learned about that "four-square of life" -- was it Religious Science so many moons ago? In any case, I do remember that it's a way to check if your life is in balance. And what I figured out right now is that one box, the SELF-EXPRESSION one is full! Rich and so incredibly satisfying... this musical theater business is.

And guess what? That only shows you how incredibly OUT OF BALANCE all the other frickin' boxes are. All three of them...

I went back to my therapist after a few weeks off, and we'll have another few weeks off because of vacations, etc. We are also changing our time because I can't stand driving across LA for an 11AM appointment when I'm keeping these weird hours. But I did "reamed" this last time.

He said, "You know, I think it's time we really talk about what you came here for."

I curled up into a big ball on the couch.

"You're pretty much running your life the way you want it now, which is great and I have no judgments at all about it -- everything seems okay to you, and this musical theater actually makes you really happy. But you're not talking about what actually brought you here in the first place last year."

"Um..."

"I think you really want a relationship."

UGH. First thing I wanted to do is lash out: "No WAY! And I don't feel like to talking to YOU about it." But I'm no idiot... that was my first reactive and defensive thought. Next, it all came dripping out:

I cannot BEAR coming home to this lonely house anymore. It's not enough to just "long" for absolutely inappropriate and unavailable actors/muses. Or daydream about the great stories I'll tell through my music and plays... I'M ALREADY DOING THAT.

I want something real... A REAL RELATIONSHIP with someone who actually wants to be with ME... and that means I have to deal with the loathing of...

UGH, I can't even talk about it anymore. Barbra Streisand/Kristin Chenoweth's song "Nobody's Heart (Belongs to Me)" says it...

Nobody's heart belongs to me,
Heigh-ho! Who cares?
Nobody writes his songs to me,
No one belongs to me,
That's the least of my cares.

I may be sad at times,
And disinclined to play.
But it's not bad at time,
To go your own sweet way.

Nobody's arms belong to me,
No arms feel strong to me,
I admire the moon.
As a moon, just a moon.
Nobody's heart belongs to me today.