Therapy is a bitch

I’m still trying to get the hang of this therapy thing, though I do like my therapist. He’s chill and I feel comfortable with him, which is something that has been lacking when I tried counseling in the past.

His plan is to work with me on my pre-existing depression and anxiety which has now worsened since losing Bryce, as well as incorporating grief and PTSD. He wants to dig into my past because he feels that we can’t “fix” my now if we don’t also address the core of why I feel how I do.

I am still new in this process, both the grief and the therapy, so I am still learning and I have barely scratched the surface of both of them. Depression is obviously often a chemical imbalance in the brain. That is my case. It is a strong genetic thing in my family. But in addition to that, losing a child would cause anyone to spiral into a horrible depression. Now try mixing the two together and you might understand why my head has been a pretty miserable place.

One thing he told me is that depression is often upset about what has already happened in the past mixed with a fear of what might happen in the future. So in my case, it would be being broken about what happened to Bryce, which is now past, mixed with fear and upset about what might happen in the future, such as who I am without my son, upset about his loss of life, fear of how his brother will cope, etc. Often times when depressed, people withdraw. Need to pull into themselves. Be alone. That is often how it is for me when I am low. I am either wanting to be alone or only with those I am very close to as opposed to being social. One thing he has said is that there is nothing wrong with needing that time, especially for someone like me who is in a profession that is very social and is about caring for others. It is okay to have that decompression time to just recharge and be alone. But that can’t be all the time. He said I sometimes need to make sure I challenge myself to push beyond myself, and that’s the hard part for me.

He stresses that it is important to know that there will be good days and bad days in my grief. That it is okay to have good days. It is okay to be happy. It is okay if I do not move in a predictable, linear pattern. It is normal to go forward and backward, up and down, and even in a fucking circle. In my opinion, the term “moving on” after a great loss isn’t the right way to phrase it. You don’t actually “move on”. Yes, you continue living. You continue going to work. You get up every day. You go through your routine. You might make new relationships. You will do fun things. You will love. You will laugh. But doing those things does not mean that you “moved on” from the person you are missing. They are still with you. Not in a religious sense…not to me anyway, since I am not religious. But they are with you in your heart, your mind, your memories, your thoughts, your words. If it is your child, like what I am dealing with, they’re even in your DNA. Bryce shared half of my DNA. My heart gave him life. My body gave him life. He will always be with me. So even as days pass and I move through time, I will not “move on” from him.

At my last session, I talked to him about how I had been approved to buy a house. I had gone back and forth on the idea. I mentioned in my last post how hard it is to be in this house now. Even before Bryce’s accident, I had planned on trying to buy a home this year. This home was perfect for me and Carter. A modest 3 bedroom with a backyard for him and the dog. My best friend and her family are down the street. Not far from his school. Still close to everything we need. Still close to Bryce’s memorial site so I can keep maintaining it. In our conversation, it came out that I feel a little guilty about the idea of moving. Maybe because it is leaving the place Bryce last lived? Maybe because he isn’t here to experience it with us? But he reassured me that there is nothing wrong with what I am doing. Bryce is in my memories. In me. Not the house. That he would want this for us.

I know that every word he says is correct…doesn’t make it any easier though.