To my Therapist,
Thank you for being there. Thank you for listening to me. Thank you for patiently letting me cry. Thank you for knowing that I was feeling upset. Thank you for your insight into my problems. Thank you for caring. Thank you for knowing when to say what. Thank you for not minding that I use a teddy bear and a blanket for therapy sessions so that I can feel braver and safer to talk about difficult things. Thank you for helping me to help myself to feel better.
I feel really good right now. Not great, but solid. I feel like me. I want to be alive. I have so many things that I worry about, like my living situation, not liking my job, constantly sleeping on weekends. But these I think are things that even people without depression have to worry about sometimes. I’m not alone. I never was. I have people around me who care, even if I don’t get to see those people often enough, or if they don’t live close by. It’s worth trying for those people and it’s even more worth it trying for myself. For the unborn children in my future, as a friend reminded me. I have goals I am working toward. It is worth living. And if I didn’t work, as much as I struggle with the idea of getting up to go to work every morning, life would be considerably boring. It wouldn’t be much of a life if I didn’t have purpose, and work gives me purpose, even if I don’t have the innate drive within me to succeed, I can manage to show up every day.
I decided to not see my therapist again until January. That’s about a month away. It’s the holidays and he is taking two weeks off anyway, so I thought I would prolong my misery alone and tough it out for an extra two weeks. I don’t rely on him. And I want to be strong, on my own. I want to feel like I can manage on my own.
I’m giving my couch away to my brother. No one is making me do it. It’s a choice. Yet the prospect of losing, in a sense, this couch that I’ve had for the past three years, gives me anxiety and scares me. It’s as if the couch is a part of me, a part of my life, and without it, who am I? The girl without a couch? I hate the idea of change, even though change is inevitable, and always happening. Giving away my couch is a big change. I’ll end up spending more time in my bedroom because my bed will be the only piece of furniture I have to sit on, unless I move to the floor, which isn’t very comfortable. We’ll see how it goes.
Now I am choosing to go to bed. I can make these choices. I have the power to make choices because I have control over my life and I choose to make healthy choices, like going to bed on time, because that’s what is best for me. No one is making me stay up doing things I don’t want to do. I can also choose not to suffer. “Pain is inevitable but suffering is optional” ~ The Buddha. He was a wise man and his words are ever so relevant. My therapist reminded me of this quote today. Thank you, God, and my therapist and my mom and my brother and my aunts and to my friends. Thank you for loving me just enough. For caring.