Let me be blunt: Recovery is (insert your favorite expletive here) hard.
Recently, I have started seeing a new therapist. This will be my fifth new therapist. All first appointments are basically the same. They ask you a lot of questions about your life and then ask you what you are hoping to get out of therapy. That is always a tricky question because what I want out of therapy is: I want to be me. The problem is, by the time I am with a therapist, I usually have trouble remembering what being “me” means.
Going to this new therapist was a bit harder because my last therapist was amazing and I loved her. I thought she was so amazing I got to the point I wasn’t telling her major things because I didn’t want to disappoint her, so I had to find someone else. I waited almost a year before eventually going to the doctor I am currently seeing. In the time between, I have fallen quite off the wagon.
With this new therapist, it’s like recovery is started over again. And it basically is. Every therapist goes at things in different ways and so recovery is a little different. Like this week I have the challenge of breaking some of my rituals. WHICH IS THE WORST. I have my rituals to keep my anxiety at bay and having to break them and out of my comfort zone is giving me a lot of anxiety. The worst part is, I know that all of my rituals are really silly. Like, I don’t change any pens or pen color on the same page. I also have a huge problem writing on pages that have another handwriting on it. These are silly and I know it but they make me feel safe.
I have to get past my own mind and it can be hell. Some nights I can’t fall asleep but as hard as it might be to get into a state of recovery, living in a life where I let my mental illnesses control me is worse.