Published in Mental Health - 2 mins to read

Today was the last session of the 24-session long therapy course that I began back in 2018, having taken an 18 month hiatus at week 10. I really hope it is the last therapy session I’ll ever need, but I guess time will tell.

Saying goodbye to a therapist is pretty weird, especially in the circumstances which I was in, where I can’t simply start seeing them again if I wanted to. After having spent a lot of time, energy and emotion learning how to be vulnerable with them, not being able to talk to them anymore is a little jarring. It felt like our time together had come to a natural ending point though, we had covered everything we wanted to. It was acknowledged that I have made a lot of progress, and that I am ready to go it on my own, as it were.

Having had multiple courses of therapy before, I think I am a little reluctant to be to be too optimistic. I’ve felt like I’ve made meaningful progress after a few months of therapy before, and still found myself in a dark place 6 months later. If I want to claim that this time things will be different, then I need to be able to point to something specific that already is different. I do feel as if therapy has given me new tools to deal with difficult feelings; it’s impressed upon me that I do have the power to change how I think and feel, but it’s an involved process. I need to recognise how I feel, then I need to understand it, and then I need to take action, which might involve furthering my own “emotional education” by actively learning about it, like an academic subject, rather than meditating for 10 minutes or whatever. I also have better, more authentic connections with people than I have had at any point previously, and continuing to work on those, learning how to be more vulnerable along the way, is the other factor I’m hoping will keep me away from the therapist’s door in the future.

Wish me luck.