After 18 years of therapy, I feel…fine. Not euphoric, perfect, or “healed” like I used to aspire towards. I feel fine. In a wonderfully simple, stable, and settled kind of way. I’m fine. I’m enough. Life still throws curveballs, I get stressed, I feel insecure and fumble in conversations and struggle to go to sleep. I wonder how I’ll pay bills and freak out about a pimple. I get overly excited about french fries and spill beer…everywhere. I panic at meals sometimes and wonder if I’ll ever really love my body.
Read MoreI care deeply about how my actions impact those around me, and pay attention to when the limits of my responsibility are met so that I don’t extend beyond the boundary of prioritizing my wellness or maintaining integrity of my identity. Beyond these boundaries is the realm of emotional babysitting, and that is what I am no longer participating in.
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