I just finished the book, “Love Letters to the Dead”. I’m not going to lie. It made me cry. I feel a connection with the main character, Laurel. She has all this pain inside of her and she doesn’t know how to talk. She doesn’t know how to open up. Her pain is from watching her sister die. Mine, well I don’t even know where to start. The book really spoke to me. I highly suggest reading it.
On that note, I finally did something for myself. I can feel the sadness creeping back and I don’t know why. I started the processing of seeing a therapist. I researched them last night and sent an email to a women that I thought would be a good match. I was shocked when she answered me back. It was nearly 10pm. She asked me to call her today so she could learn a little about me and tell me more about how all of this works.I snuck out of work this afternoon and talked to her for a few minutes in my car. She asked me why I wanted to start therapy. I told her about my sister being in the hospital and how she was diagnosed with clinical depression. I told her how my dad also suffers from it and how my mom and others close to me agree I should probably get looked at myself. I told her how I have been struggling in the recent years with anxiety and depression. She agreed that it was a good idea that I see someone and she commended me on being brave enough and strong enough to make the first steps towards getting help. She asked if I could come next Thursday and sent me some paper work to fill out. I haven’t officially said yes yet but I am planning on it. She said to start she would want to see me once a week. After we both felt comfortable, she said I could decide to come every other week or what ever I felt comfortable with. Nobody but Carly (and now you guys) know about this. I guess I should tell my parents since it’s their insurance I’m still on. My dad still won’t even talk to me about what happened with my sister. I’m sure he knows I know by now. It’s weird.
For now I’ll just keep my silence. Part of me is so happy and content with life, but there is a part of me that is still so sad. Still so angry. I want to be able to let those parts go.