So, I did it. I’m back in therapy. I’ve been talking about it since moving to LA and leaving the therapist I used to see when I lived in Orange County.
The fact of the matter is, I couldn’t afford her anymore but I have definitely needed her in the years since.
I originally started going to therapy when every night I drank led to me crying uncontrollably about what my ex-husband had put me through. My boyfriend at the time spent many nights holding me and consoling me as I talked through things I don’t remember and had to be reminded of in the mornings.
He was so patient with me and I’ll give full credit to for suggesting that I find someone to talk to about it all. So I took his advice and I did.
In those sessions I really started to learn that it wasn’t my ex-husband that I needed to forgive….it was myself! What a fucking revelation that was.
As I sat there, with tears in my eyes she asked me, “Nicole, you’ve talked a lot about how you’ve forgiven him and I believe you. But have you actually forgiven yourself? Forgiven yourself for having gone through it? Forgiven yourself for suffering so long in silence? Forgiven yourself for going back?”
I burst into tears. In that moment, it all made sense. I was carrying so much hate in my heart that had all been focused on me, not him. I was so mad at myself for having been so foolish. To love someone so much that I was just willing to take it. To not love myself enough to leave. To suffer each and every day but keeping a smile on my face so no one knew.
I had hid all the awful things that were happening to me from everyone. The years of abuse I suffered at this hands every single day. I repeated this same behavior again with my drinking habit. I secretly was destroying myself and hiding it from everyone. (As I wrote these few sentences, I burst into tears. Sort of had a revelation here. Patterns, I tell you, patterns are everywhere!!!!)
I’ve been fortunate the past couple years to have people in my life who listen. They have listened to my shit, stuck around through the bullshit and are still by my side helping me fight the good fight. Some have left and come back. Others have left and have no returned and that’s okay too.
I think I’ve gone about as far as I can go on my own. Now it’s time to get some professional help.
So today, I signed up for therapy and I’ll have my first session this week and go weekly.
What do I hope therapy is going to do? Heal some of my broken parts too. Help me realize things that I have no yet realized about myself and feel a little more solid standing on my own too feet.
For my family, friends, loved ones and the people I have yet to meet….I’m a work in progress. Remind of this song Unsteady by X Ambassadors. It goes, “If you love me, don’t let go. Hold on to me, I’m a little unsteady.” I think that sums it up quite perfectly.
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