Graduation Part 2

A year without therapy

Well, it has been a year since I ended 14 ½ years of therapy.

I worried I might fall apart. That without the support and accountability—I didn’t know whether I could stay stable on my own.

The truth is, I am not on my own. I have my sister, friends, and people in my church that care about me and offer support; usually simply by being there.

Of course, this was a hard year for everyone.

I am surprised, though. Rather than simply surviving without my anchor (read, therapist) rather than white knuckling my way through the pandemic, I thrived. For most of last year, I put my issues up on the shelf and just focused on living my life.

When school ended, I left my job after 7 years. Not because it was horrible. Rather, because the children will both in school and will need a different level of care.

It was both sad and scary. Especially when an 8-year-old asked me why I would not be her babysitter anymore. At that age (perhaps at any age), it is something that is hard to understand. I remember being at age. I see them semi-regularly, which warms my heart.

I wanted the perfect job. Not a simple thing to find. I turned down 4 jobs, before I met the family I am working for now. The job is 2 days a week caring for 1-year-old twins. I love it. The only thing that is hard is the long days. Nothing is perfect. But this is darn close.

I am now ready to focus on myself again. I have a new, short-term therapist. We are focusing on my disordered eating, on relationships, and on my sexuality.

And, of course, am focusing on my blog again. In part because I am actively working on my book. I completed a new outline. I tore the project apart and put it back together based on a new teacher’s format.

It doesn’t feel scary this time. I know I can write the stories I need to I can get my message across.

What do you do when life gives you just want you wanted? Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Do I focus on the happiness or on the fear of the unknown?

That is a choice I must make every day, a choice I’m getting pretty good at making.

Published by Debi

I came upon shame naturally, I suppose. Before I was five I had experienced *finding my father during a suicide attempt *feeling responsible for the death of our puppies *Hearing my mother take a beating from my beloved father that had been aimed at me *being abandoned at a shopping mall All of those lead me to believe that I was fundamentally wrong. That I should not exist. As an adult I fell I to an open marriage and swinging. It was years after my divorce before I started to attack my memories. Although I was determined to find a way through the pain it was agonizingly slow. Today I consider myself healed from many of the things that I experienced . In this blog I will go back and forth. Exploring the past and expressing how I got free. Shame is agonizing. Some of it is good, natural. Today I live winning over shame.

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