This One Gets a Trigger Warning

I didn’t mean to go there with this post, but once I started writing, some stuff came out, so please be warned that this post discusses suicidal thoughts and feelings.  If you’re reading this, please take care of yourself and do what you need to do to keep yourself safe.

 

 

 

My appointment with yet another therapist is in about 2 hours and I don’t want to go.  It’s raining outside and all I want to do is stay curled up on my couch with the book I’m reading.  I guess it’s a good sign that I’m reading…it means I have an interest and the ability to focus well enough to read.  For a while, neither of those things was true.

Anyway, I looked at this new therapist’s website.  I hadn’t seen it before I made the appointment.  My husband got her name and number from someone he knows, and I just called.  I only looked afterwards.  And it looks like, at least on her site, she mostly deals with the worried well.  There was a time when this would have been fine, when my problems weren’t so big or scary.

The thing is, that hasn’t been true for a while.  I’m definitely feeling better than I was, but I still feel like I need to deal with where I was.  I mean, it was traumatic.  I didn’t know my brain could do that to me.  I was suicidal to the point of having a plan and starting to take steps to carry it out.  I’m not there any more.  I am categorically not suicidal at this point.  But I still have to find a way to live with the fact that it happened, that I’ve been to that place now, and I don’t quite know how to carry that.

Also, the first therapist I saw in New City advertised herself as specializing in postpartum, but when I saw her, she was pretty clearly only interested in the worried well, and told me that I was too sick for her to help.  That experience left me bruised and hurting.  It left me feeling stigmatized.  It left me feeling like because of where I’ve been I either didn’t deserve or couldn’t get the help I need.   And I don’t want to put myself through that again.

My husband thinks I should go anyway, but I don’t think he understands just how much damage this experience has done.  I know I need to be in therapy, that I need the help to come back from where I’ve been this past year, but I’m feeling really cautious about who to trust to even ask for help.

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