One thing I find exceptionally hard about this whole thing is that this feels like a roller-coaster.
Not too long ago, I had kind of a “breakthrough” at therapy and I felt great. I walked around with my head held high, taking in the world, I had good phone conversations with some friends I missed (since I’m not always fantastic about talking to everybody anymore). I didn’t cry when I saw the BMI building on my walk to work. Heck, I walked places! Forget wanting ubers to be my sad little cage from the world. (Sometimes uber or lyft is fun and/or necessary, but I use it as a crutch too often.)
Things were going so great. I saw things on social media (or around me in real life) that used to trigger me, and I’d be okay – maybe every once in a while just needing to take a deep breath, but not losing it. And a very astute person with me might notice that deep breath, but it’s not make a scene or ruin a moment type stuff… Just keeping things pretty well under control, and going out and having a grand time…
And then, as the week wore on, and I got so so close to finally making it past the 7-day mark without crying (which I have not been able to do since it happened, ugh), I just lost it. I dunno. There was something triggering-ish and I. Just. Lost. It.
I cried and cried and cried like I couldn’t breathe. Because when it starts, it feels just overwhelming…
Sometimes it feels like I’m falling into quicksand and it just feels inescapable…
And then sometimes I go see my therapist and it feels like she pulls me up and shows me I’m actually just in a sandbox – that it’s much safer and not nearly as all-encompassing as it all seems… (And that feels safer and nice, but even still, it’s a big sandbox I’m stuck in!)
I am so tired of making progress, then feeling tied to my bed. Then crying enough that I decide to work a later shift at work because it’s just too hard to make it in, in the morning. (Granted, I work a job now where there are many days where this is available to me. Had it been The Nightly Show, I like to think I still would’ve gotten up and gone because I wouldn’t have had the option to go in later. But having the option, I took it…)
Better, better, worse.
There are days where I see the light at the end of the tunnel. I feel like I’m definitely gonna “graduate” therapy. (In my program, it’s not a therapist you keep for the rest of your life… You have therapy until you’ve worked through your assault and then you leave.)
And then there are days when I think my therapist is gonna give up on me before I finish. (I don’t really think that’s gonna happen…. I think even *if* she reached the point where she feels I’m not making enough progress that then she’d refer me to someone else or maybe make a case for trying anti-depressants, etc. I do not feel like I will be kicked to the street with no options or help. But I do get worried that I’m not gonna make the full amazing fantastic turnaround that other people have made.
And that’s scary.
Better, better, worse.