So I am three weeks into therapy. I should be feeling better right? All my problems should be obvious by now and we should have answers tumbling out to fix them. I should be feeling like I can see an improvement?
Er, no, nope, not at all.
In fact, it get worse before it gets better and I am feeling awful.
My anxiety is at a peak. Physically I am struggling too. I came out of therapy yesterday feeling pretty angry and pretty broken, and it wasn’t because my therapist was horrible to me.
She was in fact, very kind. My mind just can’t process kindness or someone trying to probe it and make it look inward to try and work through some of the things that trigger my anxiety, or that slam me so hard, that I can’t breathe and have panic attacks that make me feel like I am dying.
I thought it was all going swimmingly, but for some reason, yesterday it was hard. I felt like a naughty toddler, refusing to put their socks and shoes on because I wanted to wear something else and wasn’t being allowed to.
I don’t know why. Well, I do, I just can’t get the words out, to explain.
It feels like the adrenaline and acceptance that I need some help to work things out has worn off and I now have to face the reality that I have some hard work to do, to face my demons and beat them off.
My therapist says it’s ok though. She actually told me, “it gets worse before it gets better, this is totally normal and I was expecting it.
I guess that’s ok then?
I came home, I cried, I spoke to a friend who knows me well, and cried some more. I put the homework I have been given for next week into my to do pile, where I will ignore it for a few days, until I can pull myself towards myself a bit and face it (this week I need to write down things that trigger my anxiety and how I react to those things, sounds simple, but actually to me it feels painful, embarrassing and stupid, because the things that trigger my anxiety seem trite and silly when they are put into written words or spoken out loud to other people)
It is a bit like surgery. You come round and the pain medication is marvellous and you are numb and blissful, then the pain meds wear off and they come and make you get out of bed and move around and it hurts. You know you have to do it, but it hurts, it bloody hurts but you have to do it, because you know that it will eventually stop hurting as much and you will start to feel better.
It gets worse before it gets better.
It will be ok. I have to keep telling myself that…
It’s ok to not be ok. but I want to be ok