I never talk about therapy on here. In fact I hate it. It takes away the air to breath. There is this constant battle inside of me. A voice inside my head telling me to give up. Nothing out there is ever going to make me happy. Finding happiness is an endless road of obstactles and disapointments. It’s just a matter of time before you give up because you’ve lost the strength on the way to find something non-existing. I really do wonder if there is something out there which I can hold onto for the rest of my life not falling back into this dark hole again. I fear not.
I always told myself, therapy is not going to work for me. The only person who can change the way you see things is: you. There will never ever be someone who can do all the work for you. No one can put back the broken pieces but you. ONLY YOU. Therefor I never considered it. Years, I kept ignoring my friends’ advice to go seek professional help but the more I denied it, the bigger the breakdown. That’s the rule.
So around April this year I reached out to a therapist. It makes me feel uncomfortable talking about it and somehow the feeling of disgust is rising inside of me with every word I type. I know it is something I have to accept and overcome that’s why I finally decided to write about it. I am indeed glad I have found a therapist like my current one. She is one of the most understanding people I’ve ever come across. She makes having a more positive outlook on life seem so easy.
Since I have reached out to her my life has shifted. Of course I had my breakdowns in between sessions but I know I can count on her when I feel like no one understands me. That’s what I value so much about her. I also know I have my friends but sometimes it is better to work out certain things with someone professional. It helped me a lot.
I mean I am still here.