((((((((((((sawe)))))))))))))))))

I think that's where T and I have been for a little while, and it IS very scary.

I remember the first time I really understood that I was going to have to (or at least I thought I was going to have to) integrate all of the scattered parts of myself. I literally remember where I was sitting at the time (in the car in the driveway talking to T). It TERRIFIED me and made me angry, and yeah, it made me want to quit T forever.

But T has always been really gentle. And learning to let go of my defenses, slowly, slowly, has been a process. We dip in and out of it, and T says it's okay to put my walls back up for a little while if i need to.

I think we really start the process when we start therapy. I know that for me, just walking through that door and basically admitting "I need help" took a huge amount of bravery and willingness to do things differently. I don't think I had ever really asked for help in that way. (not that I used those words, but just walking through the door sort of said it for me). It was never safe before. Learning to show up every week and to be willing to start to let down my guard enough to tell my story was part of the process. Every step of therapy really has been all about taking down my defenses (and putting them back up, and taking them down again) in some ways.

So. For me, each new "phase" of therapy brings it's own set of fears...AND I know that I DO want to be able to live with an open heart, without unnecessary fear, with the ability to love and be loved. I'm learning that each new awful scary phase of therapy somehow gets less scary eventually.

It can be slow, and gentle.

You ARE brave, sawe. You couldn't have reached this point otherwise.