Well, it happened. Last night was the epic and ultimate crash and burn that I usually anticipate happening after a retreat. We lovingly call them “retreat hangovers” because that’s basically what it is.
Yesterday in it of itself was triggering. I finally bit the bullet and, with the help of some of my friends, emailed a small handful of therapists in my area who would be qualified enough/a good possible fit for me. And that was…brutal. It was brutal as fuck.
As of right now, I have 2 appointments set with 2 different therapists. One next Tuesday at 6:30pm, and the other on Wednesday at 2:30. I do know which one I like better, and which one I want to like better (and yes, they differ).
I had a few good conversations with people yesterday about trying to feel the hope in this situation. New doors can be opened. There are opportunities I can take advantage of with a new therapist that I couldn’t with mine. Like IFS. Maybe I can try EMDR again. Shit, one of the therapists I emailed even has certifications with using ketamine in her treatments! And not that that’s something I think I need (I think??) it’s still…hopeful to believe that I can maybe continue to make progress, or make more progress, or try new things…I don’t know. I just need to believe in hope.
I had a good solid few days totally sober during and after my retreat. But last night and the night before was a different story. Last night was rough. I was triggered with all of the therapy stuff, stressed in general and dealing with retreat hangover. So, it was the perfect storm of bullshit.
I’m feeling pretty depressed and messy today still, not going to lie.
But the day is young. And it doesn’t have to stay a bad day.
I just need to keep going.