I tried to write about therapy, or lack thereof, yesterday, but I never could get my words to make enough sense or something, so I didn't post anything. But that's okay, because it took that and then going to my group therapy, DBT group, to be exact, to help me realize what I was trying to get across to you.
The motto of DBT (dialectical behavior training, or something close to that) is that it will 'give you the tools so that you can build a life worth living.' While I was there yesterday I realized that I finally do have those tools, that my life is worth living, that I have come very, very far along this path. I think I may be ready to graduate from my group. I am so very peaceful about this, it is awesome. I can remember the first few months, after my suicide and at the beginning of my group therapy experience, when I would be so freaked out by something that happened at home or some feeling that I had or remembered, that I would be speeding down the curvy road, crying and praying and knowing that if I could just make it to therapy and to group therapy, that I would be okay, that my crisis would be averted. It was a place I could go and count on unconditional understanding. I would feel enveloped in safety, like I was not alone, and that I was among others like myself, who had been to the darkest places within themselves and found their way back out, too.
Here I am, two years later. I want to know how the story, all the stories, will end. I want to go places I've never been and see things I've never seen and touch other people's lives and have my life touched by other people, people I haven't met yet. I realize that I have just begun my journey...that all of the things that have come before, good and bad, have been to prepare me for what lies ahead. This is my do-over, my wonderful chance at life that I had to die for. I find it all so exciting and I am as wide-eyed as a two year old about it all.
I would not be here, though, were it not for therapy. The careful taking apart and reassembling of my innards, this I could not have done alone. I am so very grateful to the people that helped me become me, become better and whole and genuinely happy and strong...it took a village. I know that I will continue becoming and growing and that I will take with me each and every lesson, filed away carefully so that I may access them easily when needed.
I guess this is another post about the virtues of therapy. I meet people that go to therapy but don't get the benefit due to their lack of honesty, trust, or humility. It takes alot of guts to allow others to view and inspect your open wounds, your scars, your secrets, and those niggling things that you realize have been buried for a lifetime or two, and that will wreak havoc upon unearthing. I told someone recently that if they were going to get anything out of their expensive therapy, they needed to realize that they would have to be willing to laugh, cry, get angry, tell the truth, hear the truth...yeah, all that! Otherwise they were just going through the motions and would never really learn anything.
I hope that I can reach someone out there.....and that they will find themselves on the right path, the one that points to 'building a life worth living.'
Now, bask in the light of your peace....it is good.
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