The dictionary says that a frayed rope has been rubbed so much that its fibers are wearing away. I feel a bit like that, but I’m going to try one more time to see a good counselor (at least I hope she’s good).
I have an appointment set, and so the anxiety begins over leaving the small safe space of this house. Maybe it’s not as safe as it is familiar, but that translates into navigable when your energy feels reduced and your equilibrium feels fragile.
The fray I return to isn’t a battle with my husband, but the battle for my own well being. I should write about second guessing, since it’s the forward and back and forward and back dance that I seem to do on an almost daily basis.
Step one: gather the courage and determination to actually go to the first appointment.
I realize that may sound frightfully simple to most people. It’s not just the concept of trying again with a therapist, but the feelings of almost panic over leaving the house.
The younger me would look at the present me with great disbelief, skepticism, and not a little judgment. I could use some of her wild optimistic courage.