Wednesday evening was my last session with my therapist, Dr P. She's leaving the practice, so it was time to say goodbye. I'm not going to lie--it was hard. She has helped me so much. And you get to feel close to someone after spilling your guts week after week.
I'm going to miss Dr. P. It was hard to say goodbye. When the session was over, she gave me a big hug, and told me I can always contact her if I need anything. I'll admit, I shed a few tears on the way home.
In the coming weeks, I'll be transitioning to another therapist in the practice. Dr. P is confident it will be a good match, and I trust her judgement. Yes, things are going well, but I'm not comfortable going out on my own just yet. I need to have someone in place I can talk to when I need it.
So Dr. P, I wish you all the best in your new adventures. And thanks for all your help. I know it's your job and everything, but still. Thanks. I couldn't have done it without you.
I've got spring fever! Or something. On Saturday, I engaged in some spring cleaning. Gave the house a good old scrub down. I even washed the baseboards! I'm not sure I've ever washed the baseboards. Then on Sunday, the gorgeous weather was calling my name, so I got outside in the yard and did some work. My shoulders are still sore from raking!
Why does this matter? Because as I was raking leaves, it hit me: I'm not depressed anymore.
Let me back up a bit. At my last appointment with my therapist, we were discussing my progress. As I was describing how I used to feel, and how I feel now, she was nodding her head.
"Well, you were definitely experiencing some depression."
I was? I mean, I know I have anxiety and sometimes felt kinda depressed, but hadn't thought of myself as DEPRESSED, you know?
Sunday afternoon, ankle deep in leaves, it became crystal clear: I was depressed and didn't even know. I used to come home from work and collapse on the couch. Interacting with other people was just too much to bear. Even the thought of loading the dishwasher felt completely overwhelming.
But there I stood in those leaves, looking back on my (for the moment) clean house. I'm not depressed anymore. Seeking treatment has changed my life. No matter what kind of day I have, whether or not I binge, I have come so far. I've gone from not being able to get off the couch, to actually caring about how the house looks. And not because company's coming. I have the energy to care now.
This is what I'm going to try to remember. That moment in the yard. I feel good today, but I know not every day will be that way. Things aren't always sunshine and lollipops. Some days will be awful. My anxiety and depression are not gone forever--some days they will be back.
And on those days, I need to try to picture myself in the midst of those leaves, out in the beautiful spring weather. I am better. This too shall pass.