I went to Therapy

 I'd been thinking about it for a while.

All the small issues that had been piling up over the years, all the little things that seemed to circulate in my head over and over again, and the beliefs and issues that hadn't worked themselves out.

I'm fine, I told myself, constantly. This is fine. Your life is good. Be thankful for your life. 

And I am thankful for my life. And I am also unhappy with many aspects of it. It was time to reach out. So I finally found someone that I thought might work for me. I emailed, set up an appointment, signed a counseling agreement, and then spent a week talking myself out of and back into going.

How dare you complain about your life? Who are you to take the time to complain about your privileged issues? Those questions plagued me all week. But I decided to just suck it up and go. The fact that I made the appointment was a good enough sign that I needed it.

I had never been in therapy before. I had never sat and talked about intimate details of my life and how I feel about it with a stranger. Those thoughts were regulated to my husband and best friend. I didn't think I would be able to open up about my struggles.

But then after some small chit chat, she just stared at me. Waiting for me to open up. So I did. I opened up so much more than I thought I would. 

I cried. Of course. Can I get through tough conversations without crying? Throughout my entire session, my voice was in that whiny snivelly state it gets in when you're on the edge of crying. I had a tissue in my hand that dabbed at my eyes every few minutes. I talked with my hands. 

It felt a bit like a weight had been lifted off of me and at the same time, I felt drained and emotional. 

Life in the military community has been incredibly hard on me. It's hit my self-esteem, my desire for control and stability, and my ability to form deep attachments. It has really done a number on me. And year after year, I just keep telling myself that it will get better. And it does, but not because the situation is better, but because I become more resilient. 

Something she said that stuck with me was, 

"Are  you really okay, or are you just really good at coping?"

Am I okay, or am I just really good at coping? Am I okay, or am I just really good at coping?

I think I've come to the point where I've just managed to push down and ignore so many of my own issues that I'm coping at a surface level. I'm just coping. And I want to be truly okay.