Next week, I am being discharged from therapy.
I started seeing a therapist about eighteen months ago, and next week will be my last session for at least some time. Since discussing this with my therapist, I have considered what being discharged means. I am certainly not “fixed” or cured. We are all imperfect and flawed humans.
But, in some areas, I have healed.
The most important, life-changing lesson I learned in therapy was that I did experience trauma. I know trauma is a word that gets tossed around a lot these days, but for some, it is very real. I finally, after ten years, grieved the loss of my friend. I lost a friend just weeks after discovering I was becoming a mother. Not allowing myself to grieve or accept that it was okay to feel sad, scared, and angry was the cause of much of the severe anxiety I experienced surrounding certain situations.
I learned that I do not need to hide my problems; in fact, seemingly living a perfect life is another large part of why I needed therapy in the first place. I am a people-pleaser by nature who places unrealistic expectations on myself. I have a serious fear of missing out and need at least a day of detox after socializing. I love being alone, and sometimes my children overstimulate me.
All of that is normal and nothing to be ashamed of. I know how to cope with all of that now. I know how to say no. Most of the time, I know when I need to ask for help.
So, yes, I am being discharged from therapy sessions with my therapist for now, but I am not done working on myself.
