“I am sorry. I just had to unmute myself. I saw Sara’s message in the chat. About feeling guilty for drinking a few glasses of wine. I don’t think any of us who drink should feel guilty. They spend 3 hours in the middle of the day having lunch and a drink with family. Then they work a few hours i the evening. I mean no one is in therapy in Italy. They enjoy life. Eat great cheese, pasta, salami. Amazing wine. I used to drink wine but now my drink of choice is a shot of patron tequila with Italian soda.”
“Adriana, it sounds like we should all move to Italy,” the facilitator replied with her usual smirky smile.
I muted my microphone. Fuck I thought. I didn't even breathe.
I looked at my calendar with the reoccurring daily reminder: breathe……
I did not breathe. I just did what I promised I would not do. Do not make this about me and ramble.
I did not use TOM either.
Thought: I feel fucking anxious tonight. Opposite: I feel like sharing my anxiety, so I don't have to feel it alone. Middle: I should not unmute myself.
I turned off my camera during progressive muscle relaxation (PMR) as ordered. I hate this stupid breathing exercise. Why would I want to tense my muscles and focus my breath on the tensing of muscles. I grabbed my favorite treat. Peanut butter m and m’s and waited until ordered to turn our cameras back on.
“Now how was that for everyone?”
I moved my fingers far away from my computer screen and listened.
“Oh, I think it’s so relaxing.” That was Katrina. She was such a kiss ass. She loved everything we did in group therapy.
“Thanks for sharing! Now…” The chat started to blow up.
“PMR doesn’t work for me. I don't know. It makes me feel worse.” Heart emojis. Hands clapping. Lots of me too’s. No one liked the PMR exercise.
“Well, I can see that maybe some of you would like to try something different than PMR.”
Why can't the facilitator just admit we all are fucking hate PMR. All. of. us. I decided 2 more weeks might cure my curiousity for group therapy for good.