Last night, my husband came to therapy with me. He had the day off already since we all went to a big doctor appointment with the kids, so it was a good day for him to come, especially since the topic we’re working on has to do heavily with him.
It went, for the most part, really well. We communicated relatively well (about the topic that’s the hardest and most uncomfortable for me to talk about), and we left and went home loving each other. And we talked more about therapy and a plan going forward, and how he’s on board with something that is going to be incredibly difficult. For both of us. But beneficial and necessary in the long run.
It went well…except for the last 5 minutes. Which ended up ruining the whole night for me. And those last 5 minutes had nothing to do with my husband.
It ended with my therapist saying to me “so, I’ll see you Friday”, to which I responded “yeah…and all of them (the Fridays), right?”
She said no…as in she made up her mind to stop seeing me on Fridays, and only see me once a week, on Tuesdays. When we last spoke about it and left it off, I was hoping, or convinced myself, that we had left it with “we’ll see how things are going and this isn’t a final decision”. Since then, I (thought) I’d been working really hard and trying to be better at the things I was trying to improve on.
So even though she said that this was a possibility of what might happen, I honestly thought it wouldn’t. Hearing her relatively final and confident decision tonight kind of…really hurt me. A lot. And for me, it ruined what was otherwise a rather productive, all be it difficult, session.
I don’t know why the idea of her a only wanting to see me once a week hurts so badly. I don’t know why I’m wanting so badly to be somewhere where I’m clearly not wanted.
It feels like giving up. Like I don’t have any hope, or any real chance of things getting better for me. I don’t want her to give up on me, and I don’t want to give up on myself. Moving to once a week doesn’t feel like the right answer. It feels like the very wrong answer. Especially now, when everything in my life already feels so up in there air.
Everything is going to change once this baby gets here, and I want to work on things now. Before that happens.
We’re trying to work on some really hard shit, and that’s on top of my already insanely fucked up life.
Going to therapy twice a week is more important than I can express. Having that…outlet, hope, support…whatever you want to call it. It’s not insignificant.
I’m already struggling to hold on and fighting with everything I have to be okay. It just feels like the only thing I have…the only good thing that I really have for me, that’s helpful, is getting taken away.
And there’s nothing that feels shittier than that does.
Why am I working so hard only for it all to mean nothing? Because if it does go down to once a week right now…everything is going to fall apart. There’s a reason it is what it is right now. Because that’s what helps..because that’s what works.
And it really fucking sucks that she feels otherwise, when things finally are starting to feel like we’re progressing. Like we’re getting into the hard shit.
When I need support the most.
She’s always telling me to take the lead in sessions and ask for what I need…well, this is that. This is what I need. It’s not a joke to me, and it is something I take seriously.
Even if I fucking suck at it.