It has been a busy couple of weeks. We have moved house, which has been amazing. I handled the stress very well and I can already see how healing this house will be for me.
It is so light and big, I feel a sense of freedom here. The garden is awesome, the trees and the quiet (well at least most of the time) especially. The area we overlook reminds me a lot of my first childhood home, though I barely remember it, the smell seems so familiar. It is comforting somehow. I think I can find peace here, I am very hopeful this new home will be a sanctuary for me.
After a two week break, on Friday I re started therapy. Today, my boy went back to school and husband back to work. So it has been a bit of a change in routine in general. I walked my boy to and from school earlier, which was good and bad at the same time- and then we came home to our new house which felt a bit weird.
I am on edge. I am not sure how much of that is to do with all this change and how much to do with therapy Friday- perhaps both?
Therapy was incredibly intense.
From previous experience, I had assumed it would be a sort of settling in session but other than a quick catch up, we were right into it. I guess I had been bottling it up for the last two weeks. I said very little and I felt a lot. It was so painful, there are no words to describe what it was or how it felt. I said to my T “it just is”.
I did not have much time to recover, or perhaps I should rephrase that, I did not give myself time to recover. I couldn’t. It was too hard, too painful. I needed it gone. I held on as long as I could in therapy before it became too much and I had to distract. I guess I have been distracting since. Unfortunately, with distraction, the body memories have returned.
Still, I am optimistic and trying to stay focused on the end goal. I may not be looking forward to the coming months in therapy (understatement alert), but I am very much looking forward and longing for the future beyond therapy. And it will come.. right?