Therapy has a way of making you feel vulnerable. It seems to permeate your entire being. In some ways, it is good. You can hash out a lot of unresolved issues, learn about yourself in ways you never thought of, and start to solve those problems you’ve been having all of your life. However, this vulnerability feels like a poison. It’s hard to feel strong. It drains you in ways that you’ve never felt before. Suddenly, everything feels different.
I’ve been in therapy for this entire year so far (excluding the first week). It’s crazy to me that it has been that long. I even had to look it up to be sure of when I started. Before now, I had never consistently seen a therapist for more than 2 months. So, this experience is new to me. Due to increased instability, I am currently seeing my therapist twice a week, as well as, attending group therapy. Sometimes, it feels like this is all that is keeping me afloat.
This instability, the word strikes fear even in me, is daunting. It makes each day a challenge. I liken it to feeling that you have cinderblocks tied to your body, and depending on how well you feel that particular day, you can carry them all day, or not. These cinderblocks are the weight of the world, things like financial trouble, familial responsibilities, football, nannying, etc. Some are easier to handle than others but they all add up to that total weight.
Everybody has those things. That’s why it can be hard for people to understand. How come they can make it out of bed, when it is a struggle for me? I’m still learning the answer to that question. I’m still working on self-validation. I’m trying to be kinder to myself. But, I think vulnerability has something to do with why it is particularly challenging right now.
Therapy isn’t easy. In fact, it is one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life thus far. It takes every ounce of my energy to get through my week, and I don’t have a ton going on right now (no pun intended, just kidding, EVERY pun intended). Life is a difficult balance right now. I think that is why it is particularly difficult to get through the day. I’m trying to balance on a tightrope of life with cinderblocks tied to me. At any moment, I feel like I could crash and burn. And somedays, I do.
Vulnerability won’t be bad forever, I know that. However, after you’ve spent your entire life building walls, developing a stronghold, it is shock-inducing to no longer have that. You resort to old habits of trying to rebuild, only to have it knocked down in the next therapy session. Old habits die hard. But, in order to evolve, die they must.
I’m still learning and growing. I truly believe that this is why I am in St. Louis. I was meant to come here, meet this wonderful team, and go through this intensive therapy. This therapy that seems impossible sometimes, but will ultimately change my life for the better.
I hope that by blogging about therapy helps give some insight on what it is like to go through it. I know that I will be able to look back on these posts and remember where I was, and know exactly how far I’ve come. Thank you all for reading, and being here.