It seems that I have a love/hate relationship with this space. Writing here has always been a place of refuge for me. A place where I could bare my soul knowing full well that no one will care or even read my words. A place where I could talk about all the things wrong in the world and all the things wrong with me. A place where I don't have to pretend to have all the answers. More simply, a place where I can admit that I don't have a clue about what I'm doing...in any area of my life.
At different times in my life, I have suffered with depression, anxiety, insecurities, and low self-esteem. But haven't we all? I mean, these conditions are not exclusive to me or my life. For me, part of my therapy over the years has been to write about it. I do pretty well for awhile, and then, I get discouraged. I guess because it's difficult on some days to live this life, let alone write about it and God forbid, have to read my own words.
Recently, I received word that my long time therapist will be retiring in February. I've been seeing him regularly since 2008 when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. He has seen me through several surgeries and several rounds of chemotherapy. He's held my hand through Cat Scans, PET Scans, MRI Scans, tumor marker lab work and annual mammograms for my "uni-boob". He understood the survivor's guilt that I have felt over the years when attending the funerals of dear friends who fought breast cancer just as hard as I have, but they had a different outcome. He understood the scanxiety. You see, even though it has been 14 years since I was first diagnosed, he understood that I live every single day anticipating its return. Some days, I'm able to overlook those fears and some days, I'm not able to. He's more than a therapist, I consider him a friend and a colleague. I have one more appointment scheduled with him before his retirement. And then, I'm on my own. It will be strange but he more than deserves the rest and relaxation that we all hope for with retirement. I wish him well.
I will now have to decide if I want to establish contact with a new therapist, or, give it a go on my own. As it stands at the moment, I'm thinking that I will run solo for a bit and see how things go. If, at some point, I feel as though I'm fumbling too much, then I will reach out for help. In the meantime, I suppose I will use this space as way to gather my thoughts and work things out. I have absolutely no idea how this will go. I've always said that life is a crap shoot. Let's gamble.
