There’s something about loud music blasting into my ears that is so soothing — so relaxing — even though it can’t (and won’t) truly drown out the noise of reality. My dad was let go at his job. Insurance will last until the end of the month, and I’m going to one more counseling appointment before I don’t have that ability anymore.
Before Grandmama hugged me goodnight, I was crying over losing my therapy sessions. She didn’t realize I wasn’t crying over him losing his job.
I was crying over my problem because I don’t trust myself, and I’m terrified.
Sure, I can just find someone else who I can afford/is free, but it’s not the same. It means starting over. I was making plans to see a psychiatrist — to get a diagnosis, medication, etc. You can’t go into a new office and see about getting diagnosed in a snap. I’ve been seeing my therapist since September. I can’t just start over with someone new and build up trust. I had hope because of therapy, and I was feeling again. I was feeling a lot more than I realized, and I really took advantage of being able to go. Therapy was my hope, literally, and now things just feel so unimportant and pointless again.
And it sucks.
No words are going to be able to accurately portray the way I feel about not being able to go. I found a therapist who fit, and I have never found one who fit in a way that I could put trust into the therapy, sessions and therapist.
And it hurts. It really, really freaking hurts.
I may start a gofundme account, but that feels weird. Because it’s different, and it just feels weird. But people keep offering (and that’s weirder to me), and maybe it might help somewhat. I don’t know.
I’m terrified I’m going to get dark again — Effy from Skins-dark, or 2012-dark — and I don’t think I’ll be able to be “fixed” again if I end up in that place again.
Therapy kept me grounded, but now I don’t have it anymore. It was helping, and now it’s gone. And it’s not like I was doing great or well; I was just doing “okay”, and it was helping me, and I was getting help.
Once again, it feels like I was never meant to be happy.
I can try and try to drown out the noise of not having therapy anymore, but I can’t, and I’m scared, because I don’t trust myself alone, without therapy and without that safe place. In the end, I still feel heartbroken, and noise isn’t inaudible.
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