Some elaboration on my post after therapy the other day (this title is shit. I’m not even sorry πŸ˜‚)

So I had therapy on Thursday. It was hard. I’ve seen this therapist since around May/June time, and I have never ever had a relationship like it. I’ve had more than my fair share of horrendous therapy experiences (I’m talking therapist not turning up to the session, telling me I didn’t have an ed when it was blatantly obvious, being discharged because of refusal to take medication, being told I cause my own problems… The list is endless) and that was about 6 years ago. Since then I have seen a host of different people. Some have been really good, but the nhs didn’t allow me enough time to get to know them, or they couldn’t handle me etc etc. 

Finally, 6 years after first seeking help I have found someone who I trust. I have shown her things that no other human being has ever seen. When she mentioned that there is a cap on session numbers (nhs rules) I burst into tears. 

We also spoke about my ocd which has gone unnoticed for far too long. We’ve worked a lot on it together and her knowledge has helped me understand how my illnesses intertwine and have come to be what they are. I cried again. 

Even when I was suicidal and she sent me to the hospital I wasn’t crying. But this was different. It felt like I’ve never had such a vulnerable, honest conversation.

I finally understand what therapy is supposed to be. Thank you.  

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