I often think I need to get it all out in order to feel better, but often what I feel is self conscious and not any better.
You know how some people are so self assured they don’t give a damn what anyone thinks? Well I’m the opposite. I care too much and wish I didn’t.
It is like the time I saw the therapist and was stunned at how much I was crying in front of her. I was so embarrassed and never wanted to go back. Felt drained. All the deeply buried memories were out. And that was hard to handle. A bit too much reliving. I also didn’t return as I felt the cost just couldn’t be justified.
But on the other hand she was kind (yet detached) and her cognitive behavioural tapping technique (I was so skeptical) that she did with me did help me overcome my intense fear of getting into a plane (sudden onset of claustrophobia and panic attacks) so in that way it was great. I still get panic attacks but have developed my own techniques of halting them before they escalate into a full blown situation. And mostly I stick to close family, because they understand and I don’t have to explain why I am the way I am. I do wish I wasn’t this way though. It’s quite debilitating.
I’ve always found writing to be therapeutic and reading even more. Reading the most vulnerable posts by brave souls out there help me more than they know. It truly makes you feel not alone especially at an age when it’s hard to make new friends I feel that I have friends all over the globe that I’ve never met but we have so much in common. So for that I’m very grateful and for that reason also want to share my life.