It’s time to talk about things that are therapeutic. Like learning. Which is what I just did when my computer corrected my spelling of therapeutic.
I think everyone can understand the importance of finding your own therapy. Just doing what makes you happy, and makes you feel of value. I know people who find therapy in books, in movies, in knitting, in their pet chinchilla, their work, their bed. Finding that happy place, and what makes you feel whole.
BTW – This isn’t a conversation around formalized therapy. That is in no way my expertise to speak to. I am a satisfied customer of what certified professionals can do when you want to work with them and talk to them, though. If anyone reading this thinks they may want or need to go to formal therapy, I give it two thumbs up. Go! See if it will work to help you how it has helped me.
Therapy for me usually takes two main forms – my friends, and my food.
Friends has been a constant. I’ve been blessed to meet and have great supportive friends. Through high school and university, and now in what people call “the real world” I’ve been lucky to have great people to talk to. Let me crack some cold ones with the boys, sip white wine with some former dons, or facetime my friends to catch up on their madness, and I’m good to go. My friends make me laugh, and when my bucket is empty they fill it.
My other therapy is food. Sometimes, this is not a good thing.
I love food. I’ve been raised to make food be an event. Portuguese family dinners last multiple hours, have multiple dishes, and usually make you ruin multiple belts. They are hearty and delicious. I was raised by excellent cooks, and know that there is a lot of art and passion in cooking.
However, if I’m sad then food is also the bad kind of therapy. The kind of therapy that involves eating a whole pizza and questioning why I ate the whole pizza. The therapy of ordering Chinese take out to count for three meals instead of getting groceries and cooking myself. The “why-did-i-do-this-to-myself-and-oh-my-god-am-i-still-hungry” eating binges. That’s not great therapy.
Lately I’ve been trying to avoid the second one. Don’t be confused – I still get sad (because I am a person, and not a robot, as far as all of you know) But I’m finding therapy in what I used to love a lot – the act of cooking.
I love the Food Network (which if you follow me on Twitter you are well aware of) and it has reignited my love of cooking. Thanks for providing cable in my apartment, Lakehead! It’s cathartic to do the chopping, the grilling, the cooking. Making something from scratch and seeing it all come together.
Eating, over-eating, and eating poorly are all things I’ve struggled with, especially in the past few years. My therapy had turned into something that negatively effected me. While it will be a long road to change some awful habits I have gained, I’m excited to get back to the part of food I really love. Making and creating.
Food is like art you can eat (just like macaroni art, though that isn’t as tasty)
I’m no Iron Chef, but I’m back in the cooking game. Send me your favourite healthy-ish recipes to try. Just no mushrooms, and I’m game.
Peace and blessings, friends. Love from Thunder Bay!