Something Special

I just got out of my final session with my therapist. No, I am not done with therapy. I am done with DBT. "It feels like I've beat the BPD horse dead." I told her. "No," she replied, "You've beat the DBT horse dead. You're ready to move on."

Three years. I first met her in July of 2021 after moving into my aunt's basement in Cleveland. In September of 2021, I officially started DBT: skills group, phone coaching, individual therapy, her having team consultation. Whew. I was a mess. I was in pain. I had just started my first job at Hungry Howie's as a pizza delivery driver. I was abusing sleep meds, had a binge-eating disorder, and was fresh off bitterness from how things ended in Arkansas.

Over our time together, I learned how to pick myself up and put myself back together. I remember looking in the mirror in the bathroom basement using the STOP skill. I wanted to take zzquil to quiet my mind. It was mid-afternoon. I still did - and yet, I thought about not taking it. This, even in that moment, I knew was the beginning of my uphill climb.

I was introduced (intellectually) to Marsha Linehan, the developer of DBT, who had BPD herself. "The way out of hell is through it." I felt that. And I've done that. I've walked myself out of hell.

How?

Well, I can't tell you here. That would spoil my book. All I want is to give a huge thank you to my therapist who lead the way.

So, here I am; here we are; a little more than three years later. The transition between therapists is vastly different. Not that I didn't care for my Arkansas one. I still miss her. The difference is me. I'm different. I'm... okay. I feel both sobbingly sad and heartfeltingly grateful, even also excited at this change. My therapist and I did the work. We made it. And now, I'm ready for the next type of therapy.

Early on, probably an autumn day similar to the one today, she left me a voice message. I was struggling to believe in her and in the treatment.

“Hey Arielle, it’s [her name]. There will be times that I will hope that you listen to this message because you need a reminder of how much I want to work with you. Because it’s true, I do want to work with you. I promise you, If I didn’t completely and utterly believe in your ability to engage skillfully and gradually these behaviors that are more effective for you, I wouldn’t do the work. I like you, and I like working with you. I want you to remember that you have every possible skill you need to ride out those intense feelings and those thoughts that tell you “you are worthless” and “you should be able to do this” and “why can’t I do this” and “how come everyone else can do this”. Remember, that this is a symptom, and that this is not a character flaw. It’s a symptom. It’s a symptom of oversimplifying. I know it’s hard to remember this, and you don’t want to burn people out. I am pulling for you. And I wouldn’t work for you so hard if I didn’t believe you could do it.”

And... we did it!

Thank you, from the bottom of my (cold, black) heart. I'll see you later, Rhonda.