Yesterday was therapy day, and I had scheduled for 4pm instead of my usual lunchtime appointment. I won’t be making THAT mistake again!
Instead of my normal routine – get up, get dressed, jitter for a couple of hours until The Husband gets home from work, go pick up lunch and eat it in the car before going up to my session – I sat and jittered and worked myself up into anxious knots All. Damned. Day. Then when The Husband got home to pick me up, I kept misunderstanding and mis-communicating as we talked about what I needed before the session. We wound up arriving WAY too early to go up for my session, and WAY too late to go through a drive-thru to get me a tide-me-over til dinner, which resulted in me having a teary meltdown in the car. I hate doing that. It makes me feel like a spoiled five-year old.
Therapy itself was good, in the way that getting a root canal is good: it’s painful and you cry a lot, but then it’s over and it’s a huge relief to have that particular pain eased. I am *never* going to like having to go to therapy, but I know it’s necessary to maintain my stability and so I’ll keep going.