Therapy Hurts
I started therapy not too long ago.
I have to say that it’s been a fucking roller coaster of shit storms. Admittedly, I got into it well after I wanted it. Many many years after I knew I needed it.
My therapy sessions happen in the evening hours between 6 & 7 pm. I’ve found that nighttime after therapy seems to offer me decent sleep.
It’s the day after that seems the hardest for me.
Maybe it’s because I have waited too long and have so much built up shit? Regardless that simply seems to be the way of things for me.
Therapy for me is like intense surgery performed in an emergency fashion. He puts me under the knife of my own introspection. Guiding the blade to cut precisely into wounds I’ve long thought forgotten. His words are my anesthesia. I sleep okay afterwards. As the anesthesia wears off.
But then come all these fucked dreams that fuck with my head. I wake up fully slept for the first time in days, but it feels like I’m nursing a hangover. I’m tired and lethargic and everything seems a little bit off. Everything mentally starts off like normal. But eventually, everything I talked about creeps back in. Sooner or later it feels like stitches have been ripped off wounds that run so deep that they don’t seem to have a beginning or end. All they do is bleed. Turning themselves into shame, anger, or tears.
The day after therapy sucks!
Anyways, I feel like I am making progress and that even the Day After is serving some type of purpose.
I guess the point of this post is to tell you not to wait until the wounds are so imbedded as mine are. If you’re younger and feeling confusion or worse about anything, find a therapist somehow.
Maybe the day after therapy will be better for you
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-POST SCRIPT-
it is my belief that therapy is only helpful if you’re seeking it and willing to do the hard work yourself. You need to think of yourself as a blind person and your therapist as a walking stick. The stick can’t tell you where to go or how to step. It’s just a guide to help you see the things you’re feeling before they trip you up.
That walking stick must feel comfortable in your hand and it must be the appropriate size for the height of your problems.
As I said in my original draft, I’m new to this but I’ve known for years that I needed a guide. I feel like I found a really nice walking stick in the man I chose. I’m comfortable and I’m ready and willing to share and so far things are good.
But the day after a session it feels like I ripped out the stitches of a very deep wound and it fucking bleeds through my tears that fall like rain.
But I feel like therapy, and my therapist helps me to find the parts of it all that I missed in all those dozens of books I read trying to fix myself by myself.
A girlfriend once said to me “You need to go through it to get through it.”
I think that is so true with therapy.
I have to say that it’s been a fucking roller coaster of shit storms. Admittedly, I got into it well after I wanted it. Many many years after I knew I needed it.
My therapy sessions happen in the evening hours between 6 & 7 pm. I’ve found that nighttime after therapy seems to offer me decent sleep.
It’s the day after that seems the hardest for me.
Maybe it’s because I have waited too long and have so much built up shit? Regardless that simply seems to be the way of things for me.
Therapy for me is like intense surgery performed in an emergency fashion. He puts me under the knife of my own introspection. Guiding the blade to cut precisely into wounds I’ve long thought forgotten. His words are my anesthesia. I sleep okay afterwards. As the anesthesia wears off.
But then come all these fucked dreams that fuck with my head. I wake up fully slept for the first time in days, but it feels like I’m nursing a hangover. I’m tired and lethargic and everything seems a little bit off. Everything mentally starts off like normal. But eventually, everything I talked about creeps back in. Sooner or later it feels like stitches have been ripped off wounds that run so deep that they don’t seem to have a beginning or end. All they do is bleed. Turning themselves into shame, anger, or tears.
The day after therapy sucks!
Anyways, I feel like I am making progress and that even the Day After is serving some type of purpose.
I guess the point of this post is to tell you not to wait until the wounds are so imbedded as mine are. If you’re younger and feeling confusion or worse about anything, find a therapist somehow.
Maybe the day after therapy will be better for you
***********************************************_
-POST SCRIPT-
it is my belief that therapy is only helpful if you’re seeking it and willing to do the hard work yourself. You need to think of yourself as a blind person and your therapist as a walking stick. The stick can’t tell you where to go or how to step. It’s just a guide to help you see the things you’re feeling before they trip you up.
That walking stick must feel comfortable in your hand and it must be the appropriate size for the height of your problems.
As I said in my original draft, I’m new to this but I’ve known for years that I needed a guide. I feel like I found a really nice walking stick in the man I chose. I’m comfortable and I’m ready and willing to share and so far things are good.
But the day after a session it feels like I ripped out the stitches of a very deep wound and it fucking bleeds through my tears that fall like rain.
But I feel like therapy, and my therapist helps me to find the parts of it all that I missed in all those dozens of books I read trying to fix myself by myself.
A girlfriend once said to me “You need to go through it to get through it.”
I think that is so true with therapy.
