I went to see my old therapist yesterday. The one who helped me through to the other side of depression. I made the appointment at the suggestion of my primary doctor since she initially thought the heart stuff might be anxiety related. She'd since told me, "This is not in your brain, this is real," but I decided to keep the appointment anyway.
I'd not seen her for a couple years, so it was nice to sit down and chat. The timing was perfect since I got to tell her about my promotion — she'd coached me through some dark days in my last department.
As we began to close the session, she concurred that I seem to be handling life's stresses well. That I am able to work through them and let them go. That bygones are bygones and I don't dwell on it.
So yesterday I had a friend make a comment that hurt my feelings. And I am so dwelling on it. She's a good friend so I know it was a totally innocuous statement on her part. But it felt like she'd smacked me. Just now I was lying in bed thinking about it. Willing myself to get over it and move on. Telling myself in my heart that she meant well and surely I've said things the wrong way and should just let it go. I finally decided maybe writing about it would help.