Probably what I've learnt over each session helped, and acknowledging what I knew did its own trick too. For example, normally, I didn't recognise crying as a weakness but a simple expression of what was going on inside. It would be only helpful to me, to recognise that.
Second of all, I came to this daring truth as told by my psychologist: nothing I want would go as I wanted them to. This is what we should all live by; accepting the course of things. It's not as easy as it sounds, and that's a first hand experience.
So this all brings me to the past week. A relapse, an unravelling. When I'm at my worst, what happens is I become all to sensitive to the world around me. Any light would bother me, any sound would annoy me. I listened to about 47,000 minutes of music last year and that was just to block the outer space. Not that I don't appreciate good music and new dimensions but, my motivation was to calm down. Earphones in, doors shut, and hiding under layers of bed cover. This is last week. This, was summer (minus the layers of bed covers).
In this non-linearity of mine, thankfully I had the best friends one could ever ask for. Whom I could relentlessly share my inner demons with, whom I could laugh to random stuff with. That was that. I watched Two and a Half Men over again in this period (how much could someone get caught up in watching things?), finished two more series and wrote countless drafts here.
And in this non-linearity there was this person recognising my 'problems' (his wording), and that my problems were of no different than an ankle twist to him, they all required the same attention. It was no reason to leave someone alone. It was no reason to deem me unhealthy although sometimes it made my means of communication that way.
To sum it all, recovery from whatever you are having will not be linear. It's best to go with it.
