I am happy to say that life is good. I’ve been in therapy for about a month now. And for the first time in my life I feel like it’s actually helping. I have hope. I’m making changes. I actually feel like I can handle life.
Every other time I’ve gone to therapy has been about discussing my problems, which wasn’t bad but didn’t change anything. I was still just as hopeless as before, although slightly less lonely. The ineffectiveness of my therapy might best be summed up by stating that I had my most serious suicide attempt just hours after a “great” therapy session.
I was talking, but I was getting nowhere. When I leave these therapy sessions though, I have purpose. I can see a need to change and I am willing to try even though it seems hard.
And I am changing. I am becoming better and happier. And I am so grateful. I spent about a year in the happiest time of my life. I believe I was so happy because I could be myself. I had no reason to hold back or be afraid.
Then I remembered why I feared, and the depression filtered in again. This time though, I have help. And maybe, just maybe, this time it will stick. I finally have hope, not just that things will be for my good but that things may actually get better and maybe I won’t always deal with depression or anxiety or even the things I hate about autism.