Last night, I had therapy. And I think for the first time in a long time, it felt like therapy.
Which, to be very honest, is terrifying.
Therapy is starting to feel like therapy again. Finally. After months of the most fucked up transition period imaginable.
And it’s terrifying. To learn to trust, to try to be vulnerable…to open myself up to hurt again. It’s scary as hell.
It’s starting to feel like part of the routine. Like we’re getting past the strangers phase and can almost start touching on some actual shit. Which… while terrifying, is also oddly comforting.
Yesterday, before I had therapy, I looked at Derek and I said “I wonder if she’ll still like me when I’m intense and have feelings and not all just fake bullshit happy/nothing ever bothers me”. He asked me if I was planning on being intense? And I said of course not, why would I ever plan on being intense?
Turns out, I must’ve been feeling low key intense because I had feelings I didn’t even know I was feeling and they sure did want to come out!
We talked about my attempted few days sober. How that all started and where I am now. My insane inability to sleep.
We talked out my kids. The genetic disorder we all share, my own health struggles because of it, and my apparent incredible anxiety about a doctor appointment I have coming up next week.
I feel like I just had a lot of feelings about things that I didn’t even know I had. And it kind of felt good to revisit some of these things that haven’t been talked about or touched on in so long. Like my struggles with my oldest son when he was an infant because of his (then undiagnosed) genetic disorder.
For the first time in a really long time, therapy kind of felt like therapy. I think this can maybe end up being okay as long as I don’t shut down. If I allow it to happen, if I keep trust and vulnerability an option…it can be good.
The hardest part for me is going to be my urge to shut down and pull back. Because I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t want to open myself up to something that at the end of the day is going to tear me down instead of build me up. I don’t want to be vulnerable and end up regretting it.
Because let me tell you. A loss like that? Like I just went through? It was…well, I’ve had a lot of loss in my life. And I’d still call that top 3. Easily.
I’m glad it’s going well. And I’m kind of excited to see where it goes. And how my life changes because of this. If I can make more progress, and maybe challenged in ways I haven’t been before.
I’m never going to say I’m happy about this. I’m never going to admit that it’s a good thing. This fucking sucks all the way around.
But I can still allow myself to grow where there’s an opportunity for growth. I can still fight for myself. And I can still show up.
And plus, new therapist knows about my blog now. So guess that means we’re legit.
