Therapy: Week 3
Three weeks of therapy. There are good days and bad days without consistency. One day is good, the next two days are bad. Two days are good, the next day is bad.
Why did I decide to write about it? I guess to point out that therapy is not a miracle drug and requires work. Putting lessons and instructions into practice is not easy. You can read books on how to be happy and utilize the tools and still be unhappy. Happiness is a momentary state, and then reality sets in. Not the reality of unhappiness but life. Things to do, things to think, things to say. Life happens, then for a brief moment I catch myself thinking, ‘this isn’t too bad.’
But enough about life lessons; back to therapy. We’ve gone through the intro to CBT, setting goals, and relaxation techniques. The truth is that simply having a dedicated time to reflect, learn, and be with my thoughts, has begun to help me. A routine makes it better. After temporarily straying from my to-do lists, from an organized form of life, I started to spin. Having that hour or two to refocus, to learn, to talk, to listen, sparks some light in my otherwise pointless life. At least, that is how I started to feel about my life when I had no routine to focus on, no dedicated time to reflect. I have been simply going in circles: sleep, work, every weekend the same chores (clean house, laundry, groceries), and back to Monday. Life was being squeezed out of me.
Honestly, I don’t want to talk about the pandemic but because of the pandemic, I became more of a recluse. Existing as a hermit isn’t helpful. Now that I have begun to attend (although virtually) support groups, be surrounded by individuals that share similar concerns, and immerse myself into some form of social interaction, I don’t feel as isolated and depressed. Now I’m hungry to attend anything within the scope of my interests and participate in life, be active and alive in my life. That doesn’t mean my level of excitement is high all the time, because at times I still feel like shit while partaking in these activities, but that’s okay. At least I am creating reasons to live. The support, the activities, the building of purposes, all propel me to live.
But tomorrow is another day and I might feel like shit. One good day, the next two might be bad. Two days good, the next day might be bad. My body, my mind, I never know what curve it might throw. Three weeks in and it’s been grueling. There have been ups and downs. But the therapy is here at least not to permit me to sink to the bottom. It creates tunnels and bridges to find the light, to find the hope, and I am glad that I made the decision to seek help.