Since my hard crash into a wall of depression in 2017, the hardest one ever, I’ve been in and out of therapy, and have grown every step of the way. I’ve gone through some one on one; Dialectical Behavioural Therapy; a Day Treatment Program unique to Nova Scotia; and most recently one on one with a trauma therapist for the last year and a bit. When I started out with my latest therapist it was twice a week, and for the past six or seven months, once per week.
In that time I’ve done a lot of hard work; a lot of healing (even if it’s still a little raw once in a while); and a lot of self-discovery and expression. I’ve become a full time artist and even sold some paintings; I’ve written lyrics which a band turned into a song and played live; I’ve become a blogger with a small following and limitless room to grow. When I think about what I have accomplished I blow my own mind.
I never thought any of my so-called art was worthy of the title or that anyone could possibly like it well enough to want to buy it but here I’ve sold four paintings and had four stolen. Ex-hubby number two always told me nobody would be interested in writing music to my words but here a band did just that and has played it for a live audience (it was well received, by the way). I left my second marriage believing nobody would care what I had to say but here I have a small following on my blog so clearly that’s not true. But I digress…
These things I do to express myself combined with the hard work I’ve done have made me strong enough and confident enough to go down to one session every two weeks with my therapist. If I have a need I can always schedule an extra session.
I still have a lot of stressful crap from the past to deal with but I’ve gotten better at managing my anxiety and nervous system when it’s in overdrive. And there’s no doubt going from once per week to once every two weeks will be an adjustment, perhaps even uncomfortable at times, but I think I can handle it.
Photo Courtesy of Pexels Free Photos
My Phoenix Rising 