I see a psychologist once a week, usually on Thursdays. By Wednesday i usually feel like I’m going to implode, the pain is starting to strangle me. But come Thursday as I’m driving to the office, I relax a little. I know in a few minutes I’ll be okay is this overstuffed chair, telling him my distorted truths. I worry I’m dependent on him, he calls it a cathartic release. There is always another way to say something so that I sound less fucked up. I only tell him the truth, I tried once with my husband and he was so scared, he just couldn’t handle it. So, I pretend I’m okay. Fake it until you make it, isn’t that the line? Fake it until the meds kick in, fake it until bedtime where I can get away, more meds. Every single day is a struggle, except Thursdays.
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3 comments
How long have you been seeing the therapist? It’s always a positive to have someone to talk to, but any professional should be guiding you so you can also help yourself the rest of the week.
Since March. He does, I’m far better than I was in March. Coping skills as they call them. Really just to help you get from point a to point b without having a breakdown. Just a lot of baggage to get through.
I’m glad you’ve improved, mondayschild. I know it can take a long time but progress is progress, and I’m sure it will keep happening now you’re on that path.