I see a therapist. I've been going to one every 6-8 weeks for about 3 years now. I started going right after the break up of a long term relationship that really did some damage to me emotionally... the relationship more so than the break up. My reasoning to seeking someone to talk to was 1) I didn't want to sink into a depression and 2) I wanted to know why I had allowed myself to stay so long in a relationship I knew was unhealthy so I wouldn't repeat the mistake. After a few months with one therapist I found another one who could help me with some other issues and who just suited me better. She is very insightful and sometimes can just say things so clearly to me that it is very light bulb like.
My last appointment was in the beginning of October. I had to cancel my mid-holiday appointment... and last week, in the middle of a particularly horrid and non-hormone-induced mood, I came to the nasty conclusion on my own that I was slipping into depression. So yeah... had to call and make an appointment.
I left with an appointment scheduled for 2 weeks from now. I came home, ate ice cream, crawled into my bed and cried in the dark for a bit. Therapy isn't exactly a cure. LOL. I have instructions to go get some blood work done to see how my vitamin levels are doing (I tend to be D deficient). I have permission to be sad... I really do have lots of real world things to be sad about... I'm not just whining about sand in my vagina. :) I also have permission to allot one night per week to come home and crawl into bed and do nothing but be sad... but only one night per week. :) I also have to keep working out even when I don't want to. I have to get up and move even when I don't want to... eventually I'll want to again. I know this. I left hearing her words behind me "Remember, Tracy, this too shall pass." A good therapist really is priceless.
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