My 40th therapy session ist set for this week. When we started my therapist scheduled 80 which means that this is half-time. Contrary to my expections it doesn’t scare me. During the last 39 hours I got so much farther than I could ever have imagined. So 40 sessions more mean undreamt-of possibilities and by now I can envision a point where it will be okay, where I will be done with it. But of course therapy doesn’t only consist of these 39 hours – that wouldn’t even be two days and therefore way too little time to gain such a quality of life. Therapy is about the No I am able to say more often without thinking I’d have to justify it. It’s about the exercises I do every day and the ones I do when they’re needed. Therapy is about the bag full of chewing gum, ammonia and porcupine balls I always carry with me. It’s about the people around me whom I can tell better and better what I feel and what I need. Therapy is about this blog which slowly changes from a mere outlet to a record of my successes (and failures). It’s about my thoughts which differ so much from those I used to have. Therapy is about the answers I’m able to find easier and more independently and the questions I dare ask. It’s about the changes I make in my every-day life. Therapy is a safe place. A huge chance. And the beginning of everything that might happen afterwards.


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