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Before therapy yesterday I felt out of control, helpless against my mother's actions. But after therapy I realized that I am an adult and I never have to talk to her again if I don't want to. I never have to see my stepfather again. She can't force him into my life again. I have total control over my decisions.
Emptying out my past with my therapist and with writing helps calm the clamouring voices that are telling me to revisit it constantly. And the more I explore, the more memories I have. Memories of good things, of quiet moments of happiness in between all the scary points.
I've skipped a lot of classes, but I think even if society looks down on it, people need a mental break to recover from therapy, from digging up trauma. I don't have the luxury of not working or not going to school, but I can take liberties with how I attend to those things.
I'm learning that there is no point to forcing myself to do the maximum possible just because I can. Right now the maximum possible is actually not that much. And I could get frustrated but that won't help anything. But I guess I just have to think that doing therapy is like re-setting a broken bone that hasn't healed right, you don't immediately start running on it after the doctor has re-broken it. You need to give it time to heal, but once it does, you'll be stronger and can run for longer than before.
Strangely, I feel safe in my own mind. My mind has seemed so scary for so long. Maybe it's emptying out all of the skeletons clacking around in there that makes it seem safe and comforting right now.
There's something comforting about thinking that I went through all I did alone. There's something calming about that. I mean, everyone goes through everything alone. No one can really know what pain and frustration and fear we feel, they can only imagine and empathize. It has felt isolating for so long but for some reason today that alone-ness is comforting. I guess because I am feeling like I have some control over my past, over how I react to the past. I feel like, no one can really judge. Only I have those memories and I can accept them as they are.