Maybe the fact that I forgot to mention this is just further illustration of how right it is:
Yesterday was my last therapy appointment. (And prior to yesterday, my most recent appt. was 2 months ago -- we had decided to space them out really widely b/c I seemed to actually be dealing with things like a more-or-less normal human.)
I'm done with therapy. And I can tell a difference between current!Teppy and craxy!pre-therapy!Teppy of 2 years ago. In a big way. I'm not fixed, by any means, and I'm still mad as a hatter, but I never intended for that particular craxiness to be "fixed," as I don't think it can be, and, in truth, I believe that it doesn't need to be.
But what's different now is how much more my sense of security is rooted in *me,* versus trying to get it from other people/my job/money/anything outside me. Because when I tried to get security from any source outside of me, I had no boundaries to speak of; it was so all-consumingly important to me to get that security that I would do anything if I thought it would help me in that pursuit. I'd change my beliefs to please people; I wouldn't speak up and call bullshit when bullshit arose; I'd do everything within my power to try to get people to love me, even if that meant doing things that were contrary to my own nature.
Security is still of paramount importance to me, make no mistake. And that's an issue we covered in therapy -- the whys and wherefores of my need for security -- but now I have a much better sense of....*trust* in myself, I suppose. Trust that *I* know what I need better than anyone else does, and that I'm able to meet those needs myself.
Don't get me wrong; I'm still fucked-up. I swing back to seeking security from other people all the damn time. But the difference now is that I recognize it, and I can halt it, and then figure out how *I* can meet my needs.
It's kinda cool.