I hate therapy.
It’s one hour in my life I can’t be ignorant about what’s going on in my life. I have to talk about it. I am asked to dig deep and talk about things I’d rather not talk about. After that one hour I realize just how screwed up things in my life have been.
Tomorrow I go for my second visit to my current therapist. This will be the third time in my life I have tried talking to one. The first time I saw a therapist, she was so unethical and non-HIPAA compliant I really could have gotten her into some trouble. She wanted to hold a couples therapy session without my other half. It’s kind of hard to do when you’re flying solo in a visit.
The second time wasn’t so bad. It made me realize that maybe couples therapy really worked. I needed someone who could help Jake understand our relationship really wasn’t one at the time. Mr Boots finally came around to understanding how I was feeling about our relationship and things improved dramatically. But I didn’t feel like I was the one being scrutinized during those sessions. I just vented about how I was feeling about our relationship and the therapist did his thing to make Mr Boots understand it.
And now I’m in therapy because of my miscarriage. My first visit was the day I received a call from the doctor saying she had the results of the pathology test. I was a mess. I couldn’t think straight. I think I would have been a little more put together if I hadn’t received the call three hours before my appointment.
The first visit was more like a “get to know you” visit. I had to talk about my relationship with Mr Boots, my parents, and my friends. What I like to do for fun. What a normal day for me is like. My previous bouts of depression and anxiety.
The entire time I was there I wanted to jump out of my chair and run away. I admitted that to the therapist. She determined that any new situation gives me anxiety (nothing new to me there though).
The only thing I really liked about the visit was that the therapist validated my feelings and actions. I seem to be grieving correctly. I cry when I need to. If I don’t feel like seeing anyone I don’t. If I feel like spending the day in bed it’s okay. I recognize that exercise is a mood lifter and she commended that. She seemed really happy that I started blogging. I don’t indulge in drugs or alcohol when I’m having a rough day (although drinking really is tempting sometimes).
I am doing everything right. For now. But how long is it really okay to hibernate in bed and avoid seeing people? Because I still don’t have much of a desire to do anything social. I don’t have much of a desire to visit our parents or relatives. When do I stop crying at work?
The therapist couldn’t give me definite answer. It seemed to be “Whatever is right for you.” I don’t think I’ll ever not be sad about my miscarriage. What I’m afraid of is this wanting to isolate myself. I still feel like I’m forcing myself to go out and see people. And it can’t be normal for that to go on for months on end, right?
I’m feeling a lot better than I did a couple of weeks ago. The therapist seemed to leave it up to me as to how often and how long I continue to see her. It’s been tempting to call her office and cancel tomorrow’s appointment. But I know I’d be canceling because I want to avoid getting into issues I don’t care to talk about, not because I am feeling better. Because after going to therapy several times, I know better than to think this time all we’ll talk about is my miscarriage and how it makes me feel. I’m going to have to talk about other situations and people in my life and how they made me feel to try and get an understanding of how to help me through the loss of my baby. And although having the opportunity to have someone help me through this process is nice to think about, I’d rather not do it at the expense of bringing up past experiences I’d much rather like to keep deep in the back of my mind.