So apparently I’m cured. Not of the infertility,* mind you, but of the crazy.** This afternoon I had my last therapy session over the phone. My therapist, as I’ve mentioned, is a Ph.D. student and after this month he will be moving on to another center for another part of his training. I was given the choice of stopping entirely or transferring to a new therapist.
Now, despite all the moaning I’ve done about my therapist in this space, I really quite like him and have gotten a lot out of our sessions. He doesn’t know anything about infertility, but he has consistently helped me to see things in different ways. And even the exercises I thought were totally pointless at the time I did them (remember me complaining about having to prioritize various aspects of my life?) have turned out to be really meaningful and illuminating. He has helped me to climb out of my depression and to take action towards making my life better. Things I might not have done if it wasn’t for his encouragement:
- Figured out all the stuff about my brother. Just figuring that out and understanding it was a huge help in coming out of the depression, even though I haven’t really done anything about it.
- Made the initial appointment with New RE.
- Started talking more openly with my husband about my anxiety and fear surrounding IF.
- Started offering metta to myself and to the world.
- Started dealing with my anxiety in physical ways (breathing exercises, muscle relaxation exercises) instead of just letting myself stay tied up in knots all the time.
- Brought mindfulness practice into my whole life instead of just a few select areas (practicing my instrument, yoga).
I said things to him that I have never said to another living being (and that I haven’t shared here either). Looking back over the last few months I think that a lot of the frustration I felt in therapy, and the frustration I felt coming from him, was me pushing back against things I had said or didn’t want to realize.
Given the choice of starting over with a new therapist or just stopping completely, I decided to stop. I really feel like I get a new start right now in a lot of ways. The surgery means we will get to start TTC with a clean slate (those 21 failed cycles have been dealt with pretty definitively, I think). I have this FMLA time from work, which feels kind of liminal, and I am looking for a new job (update on the interview coming soon). I am not acutely depressed anymore (though the anxiety is lingering).
So this felt like a good, natural stopping point. I’m going to take the tools I have learned and try to deal with things on my own.
*That remains to be seen.
**A sincere apology if this is ableist; I will be happy to reword if necessary.