I never thought I’d give in and see a therapist.
I thought I’d look weak, defeated.
I never wanted to admit that I was so lost, because of people who are no longer in my life.
I never wanted to discuss my eating disorder.
I never wanted to talk about my anxiety over the littlest, sometimes silliest things.
I never wanted to cry in front of a complete stranger.
I never wanted to scream and get angry in front of someone who doesn’t know where the pain is coming from.
But I finally gave in. I made the call, sobbing in my classroom. I made the appointments every week for 4 months. And then it was every 2 weeks. And then every 3. And now it’s once a month.
And it’s one of the most freeing Monday’s of the month.