I have thought through every situation from every possible angle my brain can come up with and analyzed so much of my life and experience that it often feels exhausting. This “self-awareness” can start to feel incredibly frustrating when I have some understanding, yet I still find myself in familiar patterns or generally not feeling better. If this description sounds familiar to you, you might be intellectualizing your feelings vs. actually feeling them.
I recently stumbled upon the concept of animal chronotypes, which can be used to describe our personality traits based on our natural tendencies in social interactions and behavior. While these archetypes are often linked to sleep habits, they’re also super helpful for understanding how we connect with others. Each chronotype has its own unique traits and ways of navigating relationships.
We were discussing a painful experience, and I was once again struck and inspired by their resilience. In this situation, I found a way to express this sentiment in the moment. However, there are many instances where sharing in the moment might not be the most therapeutic response. Even when I don’t vocalize it, I want my clients to know I carry these feelings and this care with me. Reflecting on this, I began to consider all the things I wish my clients knew about me, about the therapeutic relationship, and the process.
Navigating grief can feel like a journey without a map; perplexing, lonely, and disorienting. It doesn’t have a linear timeline. You might cycle through stages, jump back and forth, or even skip some altogether. While each person’s grief looks and feels different, there are certain stages of grief that most individuals experience at some point or another.
Open communication is the backbone of all relationships, and this is especially crucial in a long-distance relationship. When you’re in different physical places, it can feel like you’re living two separate lives unless the communication is open and consistent.
