I've been trying to find the words to express my feelings about the therapy process. Today I came up with this and I brought it to my T and read it to her. I wanted her to know my conflicted feelings about therapy.

The Excavation

I began an excavation. It is the most curious thing because I’m not exactly sure for what I’m excavating. There is only a blind stirring that propels me to continue digging and there is a naked intention that has taken hold of me.
The search takes place in the dark. The tools used are unseen and unknown. Handling them is awkward and frustrating. There is only clumsy movement with no sense of direction nor any easily understood goal.
People watch me and laugh. Those people are the voices I hear within myself that continually tell me I’m on a fool’s errand. I feel like Don Quixote but at least he had plenty of faith, courage and belief. My faith, courage and belief continue to waver.
The work is grueling and dirty and sweaty and the dust and commotion created is immense. There is such a pull to give up the exertion and return to the surface where all is clean and relatively calm.
I’m told – ‘Give up your silly pursuit. What do you hope to gain? There is nothing to be found. You have been enchanted by a romantic idea that has no foundation in reality. Just accept your lot like we have and save yourself all that trouble.”
So, how can I maintain the will to continue? How can I hang on to that willowy, barely discernible sense that, yes, there is something valuable to find deep within? How can I notice any hints that come my way that confirm that my efforts are not a tremendous waste? How can I acquire the lasting faith that every part of this endeavor is worthwhile? How can I strengthen my shallow and weak belief that I’m heading in the right direction – that this dirty and difficult work will reveal a hidden treasure – a treasure, a healing, that is mine alone?
I don’t know the answers to those questions but, for now, I will continue to try to unearth that which I suspect may lay deep beneath the superficial. And I guess I don’t have that much to lose even if this is, in the end, a search for nothing.