The Choice

Yesterday, I made a choice.
I quit therapy.

Now, before you all get concerned, I want to put a few things out there.
To start off with, I have been seeing the same therapist regularly since March 2011. That’s almost two whole years. Something else, is the fact that I haven’t seen her for 8 weeks now because she’d been in NZ taking care of her parents (and I’m still alive & kicking). Another thing to add…is the fact that, because of her own strong opinions, I often felt like I couldn’t express my own opinions a lot of the time. She’s also inconvenient to get to, and is disorganised to hell.

That isn’t to say that she wasn’t helpful, because she has been wonderfully helpful over the past 23 months. I have learnt a lot about listening to my body, misplaced guilt and how to be an adult (seriously, we covered this topic a lot!). She was, at the start, very good a getting me to talk about the things that I need to, and desperately didn’t want to talk about. I no longer feel rage and guilt and shame about being abused, but rather feel anger and sadness in proportions that don’t control my life (yeah, take that you dick heads!). I am able to stand up for myself. I challenge myself. I am compassionate to myself (and others) when I am let down.

The point I’m trying to make (as scary as it is) is that in addition to all the annoying things I listed before… I feel ready to leave regular therapy. And I have felt ready for a while. So, I have. I know that I will always be able to access a counsellor when I need to. And I also know that I have to skills to survive  thrive in this crazy world. Bring on this new phase of recovery!

new day

P.S oh yeah. I just realised that I told y’all to not let me quit therapy. Hmm. Well, I’ve made my choice now! If you do have any concerns, please let me know, though, ok?

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