Trauma Therapy II, This Time it’s Personal

Can I cry now?

If you have been following this blog, you’ll know that I spent nearly a year coping with and escaping from evil people who made hating me a lifestyle. You’ve followed my story to our New Year’s Eve escape to a hotel where we lived with our dog and cat for three months. So, it is time for an update.

We have moved! And I love our new home on the Chesapeake Bay. My neighbors don’t seem to be actively out to get me, which is a pleasant change. In fact, there is quite a town atmosphere, with lots of neighbors of all stripes, nice restaurants, art galleries, and every dog on the street barks just like mine does! It also has a contagious sense of civic pride. And Harriet Tubman lived here. Freedom for me meant moving South. Go figure.

My favorite housewarming gift from my (almost) MIL. (Although I love the stick vac, Mom!)

But one of the million pieces of fallout from my move to freedom was that I had no therapist for months. My therapist was not licensed to practice in this state.

I have done everything I could think of to keep my emotions in check. I failed a lot. But I just needed to gut it out, I knew. Once I had a permanent address here, and became a resident, I got the help I needed to find a new therapist. I found her through Psychology Today (the best way to find the specific help you need). She turned out to be a woman from Poland. Who better to understand trauma than someone from a nation that spent a lot of time not existing, or being tormented by Nazis and then Soviets?

I saw her this Monday past, and it was a revelation! She loves the book my previous therapist and I used, spoke about Jung, and didn’t blink when I spoke about Camus’ The Plague and being an Existential Humanist. Ah. Eastern Europeans, you know what we Greeks have been on about for ages.

But, most importantly, she is older than I am. I am too far gone to be seeing therapists working on their doctorate. Besides, as late Gen X, Millennials are well, like they actually think like shit should work like it should, ya know? And they like trust people? What-ever…πŸ™„ #trustno1

I am happy about our first meeting. It’s always rough to start with a new therapist. But I felt good about her. I think she will challenge me more, too. I speak and write a decent game, but it doesn’t take too long to realize I have some “issues.” But I am not often challenged. I hope she challenges me.

I felt incredibly sad after our first meeting, and it took a day or so to work it out. I need a place and person to break down to. I’ve held myself so tightly, and continued to function as well as I could. But I need permission to let it out and let go of the trauma of Buttface Becky and her single-celled organism of a husband. I NEED to cry.

Only after I have let this go, can I truly begin to heal. Hopefully, this woman can help me. Until then, I hope she just lets me cry.

May the Force be with you, always.

– JL βœŒπŸΌπŸ’šπŸ––πŸΌπŸŒ»πŸŽΈ


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About JLakis

Jessica Lakis - Writer/screenwriter. Geek & mental health blogger. Conqueror of the Useless. NERD INVICTA! View all posts by JLakis

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