Therapy. This was something I never thought I needed. Or wanted. It's just not for me, okay? But suddenly you find yourself in a shitty situation and you need to talk. A lot. And getting really REALLY drunk (see post #5) will only get you so far, too. Fortunately, my friends were wonderful. They called and listened and offered advice and listened some more. My family did the same. My mother...well I can't' say enough about her. And I admire how much restraint she exercised - especially in the beginning when I was hopeful that my marriage would still work out. She let me express whatever I was feeling - sadness, anger, confusion. I called my mom daily (honestly, multiple times a day) and she just listened on the other end of the line without judgement. Thank you to all my friends and family and especially to you, Mom. I knew pretty early on, though, that as lucky as I was to have these resources around me- I needed to talk to someone. And by 'someone', I mean a professional. I am normally a pretty 'together' person and I wasn't going to let this situation f*ck me up. I got the name of a practice from a friend and shortly thereafter had an appointment. I needed a 3rd party, someone neutral to listen (and potentially advise me) without any history or vested interest. I liked my therapist immediately. She made me feel at ease, safe, comfortable. Talking with her helped me to put some things into perspective and allowed me to slowly start to feel like myself again. I found I enjoyed therapy. And before I knew it, I realized I actually looked forward to going.
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