Meeting a therapist – how’d you know?

I’m not sure whether it’s a good idea or bad idea to post this. I wrote it as I wanted advice about how you know whether a therapist is good or not. I still do want thoughts and advice. Ended up ranting instead. Or not letting myself really rant as this isn’t the space for it. Argh. Confuzzling myself. Just posting it and hope I don’t regret it.


I met a therapist for the first time today. I mean that today was the first time I was meeting her. I don’t know what I think. I don’t know if I want to know what I think. I don’t know what I feel about it. Well, I never or rarely ever know what I feel either way, so nothing new there. There’s just, a lot. There’s this big mass of everythingness to add to all the nothings that I haven’t been tuning into at all recently. I can’t tune into it even if I want to. For as I wrote in one of my last reason posts, every time I’ve begun to journal to let myself journal, I tune out. I’m tired of tuning out. I rather stay present with a distracted version of too much. lol, for this staying present is probably the same as the cut off version when tuned in. I don’t know. I actually really don’t, though it’s also a cop out too. It was interesting. I spoke way more than I ever thought I would. I don’t mind that I did. Found it interesting to see that. The rest wasn’t. She said a couple of things that I tried to look up and didn’t find any information on. And I want to scream. And mostly right now I just want to cut off from it all. My head’s hurting.

How’d you know if a therapist is any good? How’d you know if it’s right or wrong to continue with them? How do you know if there’s a point? Why did I ever think it’d be a good idea to find a therapist anyways? Why do I even think it’d be helpful? Who said it’d be more helpful than working it through on my own (yeah, I know I’m not really handling at the moment, let’s ignore that for now). Just, argh. Double argh. Triple argh. I want to scream. I just, I don’t want to write what I really think.

And I emailed someone now and I shouldn’t have. Because every minute that she doesn’t reply, which I know means that she hasn’t seen the message or had time to reply, means that she is never going to respond. R’ R hasn’t replied. I asked him a week ago (a week and 2 days), if he could record something for me about life – I gave some specific questions to answer. He said ok but not for a few days. I’m not sure how long a few days is. And I knew it wasn’t fair to ask him to give me that time as it was. I knew it would take time to think of how to answer and record it. I just thought that he would actually do it….

It’s been a long day. And I want to sleep and am scared of going to sleep. I only get scared of going to sleep when I’m afraid of the space before sleep, the time of being. So much for practising mindfulness today. Why did I ever think doing an MBSR course would help??? (side note, it does/has been helpful! Even just for this post.)

So long as there’s life, there’s hope. Keeping my signature line for this post. I should remind myself of it. There’s always hope. Even if and though at the moment I hate myself lots, hate being here, feeling really vulnerable, lost and alone, and hate that I still want to destroy myself. Or some me does anyways.

So long as there’s life, there’s hope.


One Hundred and Fifty Four: You can find love, yes, you (reblog)

Love, hope, dreams. Sometimes I wonder if we’re all dreaming and hoping for the impossible. Sometimes I feel like we’re casting the fishing lines into the sea, when the fish will bite the lines and tug so strongly that they’ll tug us over the cliff and land us on the rocks in the sea below. I often wonder ‘is it possible‘. Sometimes I believe. Sometimes I keep on believing in hope, in love, in laughter, in light. In living a life beyond your/my wildest imaginations. One hundred and fifty four. You can find love. With others. With yourself. With the world. Continue reading “One Hundred and Fifty Four: You can find love, yes, you (reblog)”

Why do I feel nothing? (reblog)

Another post copied from eggshell therapy. Thank you Imy for allowing me to post your work here!

This post brought me to tears. It describes me and my life way too much. One of the reasons I love Imy’s posts is that they’re so accurate, and yet so positive and filled with possibility and hope. They describe why/how in positive and realistic ways. Explaining why we’re normal, and why no one is at fault for what they did to survive. Rather, the fact that you’re here today is amazing. You are amazing!!! As a friend of mine always responded when I was upset about wanting to go back to using painkillers, it was and is me trying to look after myself the ways I knew best how. Continue reading “Why do I feel nothing? (reblog)”

One Hundred and Fifty Two: Masca Cliffs

One Hundred and Fifty Two. I tried to write a 152nd reason. My original reason – the pictures of Masca which I can’t upload –  can be viewed here (please do check it out and make the hour I spent making it look presentable worth it). 152. Keep trying. If at first you don’t succeed, blast off! The cliffs are, the cliffs. At a distance it’s difficult to see  just how awesome and amazing they are. Especially because they look so small. When you come near you see how impossible it is to take a picture as they tower above you. There were a load of boats sailing (rowing/motoring?) along as we came near. A couple were pulled into the harbour. I wonder if there’s any way of seeing the beauty other than from sea.

So long as there’s life, there’s hope.



One hundred and Fifty One: Adventures in the wild, self discovery

I came across this article by Sara Debbie Gutfreund. I’m reblogging this for my 151st reason. Hey, I love that number! It’s symmetrical. I love nature. I sat videoing the ocean for hours and would have continued if the tide wasn’t drenching me. Though I don’t think I’d ever do what what Cheryl Strayed did, and adventure alone in the wild. Continue reading “One hundred and Fifty One: Adventures in the wild, self discovery”

One Hundred and Forty Eight: Moving forward

Image result for 2018

Today is the last day I can date something as 2018. It’s the end of 2018 and nearly 2019. I was trying to think of a title for this reason. The end of a year. Living through a year. Reaching a new year. It’s all of it. Everything. It’s the end of another year. I find it weird to be here at the end of a year. The last day of 2018. The last day of a year. I find it hard to believe that an entire year has passed. Didn’t I just write my goals for 2018? Oh gosh, I just looked at that post to link it, and here’s what I wrote: Continue reading “One Hundred and Forty Eight: Moving forward”

Letter to myself: You aren’t guilty.


I love you. I’m proud of you. Even as you get upset with your sister. I’m proud of you. I love you. Even as you hate that you’ve eaten too much. I love you even as you hate your body. I don’t know why you do. It’s kinda more recent. Maybe transference? I love you Eliza. Whatever you do or don’t do, I love you. And am proud of you. I wish I had a magic wand. Continue reading “Letter to myself: You aren’t guilty.”

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