In my heart, I am holding each of your hearts carefully, like I held Sammie when she first climbed down out of that big tree to where I could scoop her up and take her home. You are precious. You are loved. You deserve to be cared for. You deserve to have your space and boundaries as you want and need them.

you are much braver than I.

I'm not, though. The only way I got to therapy this time was because I *thought* I was going for something else (a.k.a., 2016 Blows So Hard) and then my psyche bait-and-switched me. I thought I could handle showing up and asking for coping strategies for my crumbling in the face of all the stress 2016 is throwing at me. I didn't know it was going to be Let's Dredge Up The Horror Show Of Your Childhood And How It's Fucking Over Your Life Today. I can't emphasize that enough: I had NO idea this would happen. If I did, I would NEVER have walked through that door.

I have to do work for work; I don't want to do work for this. I fully realize how stupid that sounds, but there it is, in all of its nasty glory.

Nope. That's not stupid at all. I am right there with you. I do *not* want to do this work, because it is ugly and scary and harder than I ever dreamed. But I'm in the middle of it, and stopping now would be like stopping in the middle of bypass surgery -- I'd be way worse off than before I started. So now I have to do the fucking work.

For me, and part of the reason my therapist broke up with me, it's that I don't have the (spoons? not exactly) ability to be broken right now. Going any deeper and working on the deep stuff will break me, and that's a crucial first phase of putting me back together better, I can't be broken right now. Too many people are depending on me.

I'm strong enough to manage myself and be there for them for now, and ideally in a couple years people won't die if/when I fail to show up because I'm crying under the bed.

My love and support to all of those that had a bunch of shit dredged up. I am totally with y'all on the work being exhausting - I really feel it's been an extra full time job for me for over a decade now, and while much has gotten better, there are ALWAYS more layers and I'm trying to come to terms with that. Right now my shit centers around work and career, feeling like I am mentally and physically unfit for, oh, pretty much everything.

Even acknowledging you have stuff you need to work on, while not being able to face it yet, that is brave.

I have to do work for work; I don't want to do work for this. I fully realize how stupid that sounds, but there it is, in all of its nasty glory.

Going any deeper and working on the deep stuff will break me, and that's a crucial first phase of putting me back together better, I can't be broken right now. Too many people are depending on me.

I do want some better coping strategies for life, but muck settles to the bottom of the lake for a good reason. Stirring up all the dormant, toxic sediment can cause a bigger, more expensive cleanup than just coping with the surface issues entails.

I can't be broken right now. Too many people are depending on me.

I am Volans, except not with shiny new name. I don't have the time, and I may never. I am pretty damn aware of my issues and just have to figure it out, or not.

I can't be broken right now. Too many people are depending on me.

I get that. This is *not* what I thought I was signing up for. I do actually believe it will be better out on the other side, but DAMN. I really thought it was, like, an archery class at Camp Butterworth, not the goddamn Hunger Games.

Yeah, I figure probably therapy would be good. Might help me be in a longer relationship than a few months. Might not. May just have not met the right person. But I figure I'm pretty functional right now, do I want to take the chance therapy would leave me a sobbing mess? Add that to the "but finding someone! And time! And money!" And well...thus I've never done therapy.

Hugs...like virtual hugs that allow plenty of personal space.

I had a Therapy Agenda that went out the window because i had to drive 45 minured to a person employment drug screening.

We only briefly touched on Saturday Mom was telling me about this book she read where the main character had an autistic son who tells the story in his POV.

And talks about how all the therapies and stuff made him feel broken and broken stuff goes in the trash.

And she has never clicked on how all the freaking doctors appointments and tests and shit made me feel broken. I did not say anything because we were headed to E's swim meet.

My therapist was shocked she'd be this clueless. And I realized I made her look bad and started back tracking because of guilt. I know it's not the same thing as other people are going through but I had to shove all the feelings aside. Now I get to put on the therapy agenda...why was I am child and then adult who felt so much responsiblity for their parents fwelings/emotions.

I am right there with y'all. I didn't want to go back to therapy or get a new psychiatrist and more drugs. I really didn't. My brain decided to have a little meltdown and I ended up with no real choice. This has been a hard year.

My subconscious mind keeps going, "Oh hey, did you forget about THIS harrowing experience? And did you realize how awful this one actually was? Take it seriously, dumbass." Thanks, subconscious.

"Edits well while crying"

Yeah, I can put that on my resume now. Frankly, I think we both, Steph, deserve massive credit for keeping our jobs while losing our shit. If I couldn't work from home, I'm not sure I could've done it.