School is back in session.
The first day was long and terrifying. The second day was long and exhausting because I had to go to session in between classes. I had exactly enough time to commute there, have a one hour session, and commute back. I made it to class with one minute to spare after running from the train in pouring rain.
Not super fun.
Yesterday was long, but better. The first-day scare tactics my professors love to employ wore off a little and they were more chill and seemed genuinely enthusiastic about the material. I’m already beginning to feel less anxious and more excited about my classes this semester.
And I finally found out my first clinical assignment. It’s about a 25 minute commute via subway train and I’ll be going on Fridays, which means I only have to reschedule one therapy session per week. My clinical director paired some of us up and my partner is a classmate I really enjoy being around. We’re both meeting with the clinic director on Monday to talk logistics and find out the hours we’ll be working.
Very exciting, very scary.
Due to last minute class changes, I had therapy three days in a row this week. And yesterday, I had to meet with the psychiatrist right before session, so that was intense.
The therapist and I were able to get through some really difficult and important stuff due to the “condensed” nature of this week’s schedule, which is great. But it was painful and exhausting and stirred up a lot of emotion.
I haven’t written about the sessions because I haven’t finished internally processing what happened. It’s still all mixed up and overwhelming. I don’t even know where to start.
I had an intentional “doorknob disclosure” at the end of session today (which I told the therapist I was going to do before even started talking about it) because I wanted to share something with her, but I didn’t feel prepared or willing to process it.
I wanted to drop it in the space so we could both hold it over the weekend while I had more time to make sense out of how I’m feeling around this topic. She responding by sharing that she was glad that I did that, which was nice because therapists often complain about clients who share something big right before they walk out the door.
I think that’s lame because sometimes you only have enough courage to be vulnerable when you know you can walk away. That’s still hard to do and people should respect that bravery.
I’m barely sleeping, barely eating, and working out a ton. It will be a serious challenge to keep up at this pace if I neither rest nor refuel my body. I wish it was as simple as that; as knowing how to take care of myself and just doing it. But I can’t figure that out right now.
One day at a time.