My therapist says that I am responsible. She says that I am kinda, She says that I am a good person. She says that I handle my stress with grace. She tells me that I am doing a good job. She applauds the boundaries I am drawing. She agrees that I need to create more.
My therapist empowers me. She inspires me to make better choices. She reassures me that I am on the right path. She provides me with the tools I need to continue to grow and ensure it is in the right direction.
I think I was feeling especially inspired today when I told my grandmother to stop being so hateful towards my mother. I think I drew a very blatant boundary. The kind of boundary that says I have chosen my side. The kind that makes me her new enemy instead of her confidant. I just want to be her granddaughter. I don’t want to be her financial partner in crime and I don’t want to be the one in the ivory tower while she shits on all the peasants. I don’t want to think of it as her and me against the world. I don’t want to have to choose to be on her side vs my mom and sister’s. I want her to love us all the same. I want her to treat everyone like she does me.
I wish I didn’t feel so empowered today. Therapy normally feels like I took the world off my shoulders and rested for an hour. I feel like I added three bricks today. It was the first appointment that I didn’t end up in tears and yet here I am bawling.