Sharing a journey through treatment to demystify the process for anyone nervous about starting therapy and also to help me reflect and find the lessons to move forward.
I am committed to sharing a honest view of this therapy journey. The good, the bad, the in between. This week is defiantly one of the stranger ones. I had a couple of days after the last session where frankly I felt on cloud 9. I felt physically and mentally lighter, more at ease, content in the realisation I held no blame for what happened in the past (and mildly proud of my parenting skills).
Then wow have I come crashing down today. It is hard to even describe what I am feeling. But then I am rubbish at describing negative emotions. And these are all negative. I have found myself at least twice today just sitting or laying on the floor in tears. (Unknown to stephen and the girls who were down stairs). I have cried at the dinning table drinking a cup of tea with Stephen. I have been lost staring out at the world, rumbling around in my own mind.
Today my emotions and my thinking has been sh!t. I followed my usual insistent follow through on actions. Packed for holidays, took the girls to clubs and the circus. Tidying the house a bit. But bloody hell on the inside it’s like a flipping wild fire has ripped through my body leaving only ash in its wake.
At first I thought it was just my mind unburdened with blame about the past trying to find somewhere else to apply it’s blame efforts. I found myself beating myself up for things that have not even happened. ‘I am stupid to book this holiday, Stephen and the girls would rather stay home, they would have a better week at home.’ I was even do my best job of blaming myself for needing more than 30 therapy sessions (something we touched on in the last conversation). ‘You should have opened up this conversation sooner.’ ‘You aren’t working hard enough to fix this.’ ‘You need to listen better.’ ‘You are so broken you can’t even be fixed.’ ‘Why did you even start this process.’
This mental onslaught has been exhausting to say the least. But in hindsight I wonder if it is just my mind again trying to avoid the real pain. In acknowledging the trauma in my past was not my fault it some how opens me up to a whole load of pain I have avoided for decades. I wonder if my brain is staging a last ditch attempt to save me from going there.
Still I have tried my best not to avoid or force aside my feelings. I am trying to practice mindfulness. Stephen is being wonderful and whilst I am a heart beat away from cancelling everything and locking myself in a dark room. I will carry on. Because that’s just what I do.
Hopefully the week will find me some happiness, peace and maybe even a little confrontation of those harder feelings.