True therapy

I had a really amazing session with my therapist on Wednesday.

It started out with her asking how I was doing, like she always does.  For me, this is a great way to get things started out, to get the ball rolling.  This Wednesday was no different.

There were a couple things that could have answered that question, as there have been a number of things occupying my mind lately.  I chose the more difficult answer to the question (we got to the other one eventually, when it felt right).

It was the first time I had told anyone else in my life about this issue – it has to do with existential dread, of an obsessive nature, but is more than that.  It usually comes up a few times a year (for the last 20 years), but had come up basically every day for about a week and a half before therapy, which was a bit disturbing to me.

It felt so good to finally be in a space that was safe enough that I could share this deepest secret and not only not be judged, but also have someone I trust with all of my issues who could help me.  We talked about it for awhile, which was not easy, but I cannot put in words how much much weight it took off my mind to have someone else know this.  She gave me a plausible idea about why it had come up now, which was very reassuring.

We talked about the nature of therapy – about how wonderful it is to have a therapist who you connect with on a personal level, about how weirdness is awesome, and about how truly amazing it was to me to find someone who created such a safe space that I could share something like this.  She said that it was great for her to hear that.

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