So, last night I did a piece of writing about the wisdom (or lack thereof) in asking for a one-year follow-up session as I'd been pretty close to deciding to go ahead and ask... and by the end of the piece, I began seeing pretty clearly the folly of the idea, so I'm not going to ask after all. (I'd like to think this is the true wisdom, not just me being wishy-washy.)

With the decision made at last, I feel... freedom in a way I didn't until now. I guess it took sending that email on Saturday and realizing that I didn't want a response (probably for the first time ever) - for me to know that I truly don't want to re-engage in the therapy in any way, shape, or form, even briefly. It's over, I'm done, you're ex-T and shall stay that way; part of my past. A good part, a helpful part, but a part that's now being relegated to history in my mind and heart. As with everything therapy-related, it was kind of a convoluted process that got me here!

And I'm not sorry. I'm grateful to have figured it out.