There’s only so much therapy a gal can take before she wakes up one day and realizes, “Ya know, I’m okay.” I’m there today. I’ve been through the wringer this past year, including daily therapy almost everyday for 6 months. There’s only so many times that I can recount past trauma, heartache and fears. There just comes a time when I need to hang it up and practice all I’ve learned and move on and live life. I’m sitting here drinking coffee and adulting, realizing that I needn’t accept things in my life that don’t help me become the best version of myself, just because people expect it from me or think they know what’s best.
Something clicked this year and I was transformed into an adult. With wings and all. I don’t know what my hangup was, but I’ve felt younger than all of my peers for decades on end. I felt lost, broken and so far behind the majority, when in reality I wasn’t at all. But a shift happened in my mind somewhere along the line…I suppose a great deal of it happened when I began actually standing up for myself, versus just writing about it. I stood up to the verbal and emotional abuse in the family, I made it through what would kill most, and somehow, I found the courage to fight a faltered system. I’d say that’s pretty courageous and a step in the right direction. All I need now is some softening around the edges and a little finese. Transforming into your authentic self is an art.
I’ve seen it many times over, people in treatment get addicted to care, safety and therapy without making bold steps to move forward. Some get trapped for the rest of their lives, living this lie that they’re drowning in 2ft of water. It’s a safety net and I was just about to get comfortable living a life beneath my potential. I don’t need ‘there, there’s’ and a pat on the back. I need a swift kick on the ass and someone shouting at me to get moving’! It’s been beneficial and I’m thankful for the help, and I’m glad it’s there if i need it again somewhere along the line, but…it’s time to move.
That being said, I’m not going to continue with I.O.P. We sit in a room and listen to everyone vent, with the the only advice given being ‘go to a meeting.’ The therapist doesn’t contribute in any way. In the end, I was just stalling life. On top of that, it’s my firm belief that if you focus on the problem, all you’ll get back are more problems and I spent the whole of last year focused on issues. All it did was bring me further into the depths of hell and quite frankly, I’m so fucking over it.
I’ll find my way and make meetings when I’m up for the hike. Other than that, I need to practice self medicine and create art, get somethig going with work and write my book. I’ll be in therapy once per week, see my case managers twice and that’s enough. I’m twisted. The more help I’m bombarded with, the less capable I feel. I need my space and I need to try walking on my own again.
I’ll be okay because I am … okay.