But do I really ever want to do anything? I will go, I suppose. The grief group is having its final meeting tonight. It is a double sized class, because both the Monday and Thursday groups are expected to attend. Everyone gets up in front of the group and shares one of their art pieces and what it meant to them. I'm sure I didn't brighten anyone's day last time with my sharing or artwork.
Though I feel the class itself had little to do with my so-called improvement, I do see some differences in the projects this time around. For one, I used more colors than just black. I tried to follow directions, which included things like "what you are hopeful for" and other such sneaky little positive infiltrations.
I didn't feel like anyone in the group really had any connection with anyone else. Each was immersed in their own pain (or lack of pain). One lady was happy and cheerful every single meeting, regretting only that she couldn't appear more grief-stricken for the sake of others. I was my usual Schleprock, Chief "Dark Cloud." I told them I felt I should probably be in a different group, one that catered to the more chronically depressed mental patient types.
I don't mind going. I just don't want to bum everyone out with my sharing. I always feel the need to be honest, but honesty will not make everyone comfortable. They are looking for a positive takeaway and I'm stretching my brain to think of one. "Coming to this class helped me....how?"
I guess, it gave me somewhere to be one night a week. An event to put on my calendar that gave me something to plan ahead for. "Oh, can't kill myself...I got group tonight. May as well live at least one more day."
I never got a relaxing feeling from attending, though. There was only an hour and fifteen minutes in which to get everything accomplished. I always felt like my art suffered from that kind of time constraint. But then again, I would never turn in a Mona Lisa, no matter how many hours they extended the class to.
Tonight will not be relaxing either. Unless I make up my mind ahead of time to not give a shit about appearing charming or appropriately positive, I'll most likely be tense and worried about how I come across. Or I could just say some fake-ass shit, just to be nice, then eat and go home. Yeah, I'll probably do that.
Good plan. Glad we had this talk.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.