I honestly don’t known if I can keep doing therapy much longer. Not because of therapy itself–the problem is that getting there is kicking my ass. When I still had my team, they’d give me rides, so it was no big deal.
Yesterday was my first time getting there on my own. It’s two towns over and takes about 30 minutes by car. On public transit, though, it took me three hours. Then there was the mile I had to walk straight uphill on a very icy road. I fell twice and banged the hell out of my knee and hip. It was even more treacherous going downhill afterward. By the time I finally got home, I was completely exhausted and in a lot of pain. I took a hot bath to help with the pain, but then I fell asleep in the bath.
I can’t do this twice a week. There’s just no way.
You’d think it would be fairly simple thing to just find a new therapist who’s closer/more convenient to get to, but it’s really not. It took me 6 months and three bad therapists before I found A. I went through literally every therapist in the county who deals with trauma. There isn’t anyone else who takes my insurance, so it’s A or nobody.
Also, a part of me (or, more likely, many parts) just don’t even want to bother with therapy anymore. It feels like too much effort and too little payoff. They/we would rather just sort of fade away from everything, leave the apartment as little as possible, basically just disappear. It feels like everything is such a monumental effort, and there’s very little payoff to make it worth bothering. But that’s probably just depression talking.
I just wish things were not so hard.
A tried to convince me to get out of the house every day. I told her I would mostly to get her off my back about it, but it’s not going to happen. Today I was so exhausted and in so much pain that I stayed in bed until almost 2:00, and by that point it was kind of too late to go anywhere. I very much doubt that I’m going to go anywhere tomorrow, either. I feel like A just doesn’t get it–when you don’t live with chronic fatigue and pain, you don’t understand how hard it is to function. I’m not just being lazy or giving in to my depression. Unlike her, I can’t just hop in my car and go wherever I want, so it costs me a lot more spoons to do everything because I either have to walk or take public transit, both of which are exhausting and pain-inducing. And it drains me for days, sometimes, so I can’t always do something the next day. I don’t think that’s something you can truly understand if you haven’t experienced it. But now I feel guilty because I agreed to get out, and it’s just not gonna happen. I feel like a liar, and I feel like I’m just lazy and worthless.
I just wish everything weren’t so hard.