So many people are afraid of the word therapy. They are afraid of the stigma it brings, afraid that there is something wrong with them, afraid of change, bettering themselves, afraid of asking for help…. Well, I’m in therapy. Better yet, I have been for the past few years. And there is nothing wrong with that. But today was my last session with my therapist that I have worked with for the last 3 years.

I started this journey in July 2013. Somewhere around there. I figured I’m in a clinical mental health counseling program- I should probably fix myself. Best decision. The person I was in 2013, as strong as she was, as confident as she was, as resilient as she was, does not to compare to the woman who just entered 2017. Without this process, this journey, this extreme, intense, difficult work- I would not be who I am today. And for that, I thank the woman who sat, for years, listened and helped. Granted, that’s her job, right? But the connection, the relationship we built, was one that legitimately fostered growth. And for that, I am truly thankful.

Without this work, I would never have been able to let go of the shame of my story. Without this work, I wouldn’t have been as strong as I needed to be to make the changes I’ve made, so far. Without this work, my mind would not be as strong, as clear, as ready to tackle the world the way it does. I’d like to think I could have gotten here on my own because of my own resilience, but the truth of the matter is, I wouldn’t have. I was stuck in my own head- afraid, angry, agonized in so many ways. I needed to heal from so many things, and I feel so lucky to have found someone to aid me in this growth.  Most of the work was me, 100%, but I was ready for it, and I am happy to say I am in such a better place.

Unfortunately, my therapist is getting closer and closer to retiring, and decided not to renew the lease for her private practice in my area. We all have to make decisions for ourselves, and I am happy she is able to do this for herself and for her family. But today, instead of being sad about this, I decided to celebrate it as a success and accomplishment for both of us. Am I a little sad? Yes. But I am successful in my work within myself and she is successful in guiding me.

Am I done? No. As long as I am breathing, I will constantly be working on bettering myself, keeping myself happy and sane. Keeping my soul strong, my mind right. And I encourage everyone to do the same, whether they have a diagnosis or not. There is going to be a new journey now- finding a new therapist, building a new connection, and bettering myself in new ways. I am definitely looking forward to what someone else can offer and teach me. And again, I encourage everyone to do the same. Having a non-partial party to speak to about their afflictions, tribulations, worries, and happies is a necessity, in my book. One thing she tried to teach me is that asking for help is ok- still one of my struggles, but it really is ok to seek help when you feel stuck, when you want to grow, when you feel you can’t control yourself or certain things in certain situations. Sometimes, well, most of the time, we can’t do it all alone, no matter how much we think we can.

Don’t be concerned with the labels. It doesn’t make you any less of a person. I wear my PTSD diagnosis with strength. I survived. I survived AND I surpassed. I survived, surpassed, AND despite the stigma, succeded. I survived, surpassed, will continue to succeed and continue to strengthen myself in order to be a sound and supreme being. (I kinda love alliteration. A little too much. English teacher in me. lol)

Well, it’s the end of an era and the beginning of a new journey.

Cheers to not being afraid, cheers to asking for help, cheers to letting go of any stigma that steers you away from the direction you may need. Cheers to therapy. Cheers to me eventually being a full time therapist.

Love and Light to all.