Ignore my messy car, but after 8 years this is what I am left with: a hand made blanket by my therapist, her old used up canvases, and the memories.

Tonight was my therapist’s last day and my mother and I were her last clients… indefinitely. She discussed her future plans and how she is trying to get this particular new job and I could see a twinkle in her eye; a spark. For the first time in a long time, she seemed truly happy.

Her husband says that closing the business was a manic decision since she’s bipolar as well, but the business was underwater, so maybe they were both right. She told the world of Facebook on a community page that COVID-19 got her business, but I think it’s because she had so little clients during the end, she lost what few clients she did have which left her with no profit. The world may never know the real reason she is quitting, but it’s kind of irrelevant.

8 years have passed and tonight was bittersweet. The first time I went in, I was severely depressed, somewhat suicidal and was crying at a loss of what to do about my not diagnosed, schizophrenic alcoholic mother. Today, I walked in with my medicated, sober mother as we all laughed and reminisced of the good, and the bad, times that we all shared together.

Kelley said I could call her anytime if an emergency happened and my mother and her could have coffee dates since it had been so long since my mom had last had a therapy appointment with her. Once enough time has passed, I could get coffee with Kelley too.

I walked in to her office today and everything was in boxes, her figurines were wrapped and ready to sell, her artwork was off the walls. I took the remainder of the art work that was left by fellow clients. I never met any of the other clients, but I knew I could strip the art work and refurbish the canvasses with my own paintings and art work. She gave me a big jar of gesso, which helps the texture to not necessarily get rid of the paint on a canvas, but renew the texture of the canvas to make it feel like new again.

I feel as though I have learned so much yet nothing at all at the same time. I think therapy is just an aide to guide yourself to some important epiphanies and realizations to help change your life; your therapist helps guide you to these epiphanies. But with alcoholism or any other addiction, you must hit rock bottom and make a change, not have anyone else make that decision or have that epiphany for you. Same idea can be applied to mental illness.

Once you hit rock bottom with your own health, whether it be physical or mental, you must decide to change and with therapy and coping mechanisms and meds, it guides you out of the hole, into the light.

But nobody can do the work to get out of that hole for you. Nobody said the things that are worthwhile doing in life were easy to do; quite the opposite actually.

I don’t know what happens next. I guess I’m in limbo until I find a new therapist as she had no good recommendations. But she did suggest a clinic that had therapists and psychiatrists in house so I could have a care team closer to me and would be on the same page for my treatment plan. So I am fairly optimistic about the future, but we shall see what happens.

As always,

Dani