Wednesday, July 25, 2018

Therapy Is Hard Sometimes

Last DBT class, came in ready to quit everything, my group therapist and coleader sat with me for 45 minutes before class even started and convinced me to stay and helped me get through the crisis that made me want to quit in the first place. Then class itself was intense with only two of us there, a lot more talking about our own issues. Then a check-in after class to make sure I was okay before going home. Then email to my DBT leader a half hour later, upon arriving home, just to confirm that I'm better and what they did had such an impact. Then regular therapy session the next day. Then Sunday night, emailing about how I'm so glad I stayed in DBT and how safe I feel and I definitely want to stay another year.

Then Monday's class. The most intense one ever. I spoke up a lot. And stared at the table with tears in my eyes, and actually started sucking my thumb because I was in so much distress (which I normally only do if something *really* bad is happening, like if I found out that someone died). I got in a sort-of argument with our group therapist and felt like she didn't get it when I knew from past experience that she did. I went home crying. I cried on my friend Eli for a long time. Went home and cried some more by myself. Did an errand to help someone out, thinking that I was rebelling against DBT. Stayed up till 1:30 AM on a work night making rice crispie treats for my grandma's birthday even though she passed way two years ago, thinking that I was rebelling against DBT.

Woke up the next morning in the fetal position, feeling about to cry, feeling an intense longing for someone to hold me before I would break. Wrote to my DBT therapist and asked if I could meet with her to discuss. She said yes, come in that same day. Walked into her office saying that I didn't know where to begin. She knew what to say and we talked about Monday's class and I felt whole again. Went to my regular therapy today, explained all of this, had to push a bit with my therapist about the fact that I do absolutely want to try to make DBT work even though it left me crying all night and sucking my thumb and curled up in a fetal position the next morning. I talked to my DBT therapist and we agreed it was worth it. We both miscommunicated and misunderstood how to say things that Monday night. Some of it was wrong and some was just misunderstood. But we're good now. We're all good. For now.

Came home and immediately did my DBT exercise for the week by writing an email to my therapist confessing a huge thing so that way I can't be in denial about it next week. Wrote again to my DBT therapist about the rewording that would make class more tolerable for me. Currently going through my goals list and ranking them on a scale of -5 to +5 to check if I'm okay with where I'm heading.

And collapse. 

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