I decided to try the group therapy. It’s funny the only concept I had of group therapy was what I had seen on TV. It would be sixteen sessions so I knew it would have an end to it. This was stepping waaay out of my box. Talking to one therapist was hard enough but to a whole group of women? So I phoned the intake person and made an appointment. It was all done in a rush since I found out about it at the last minute. Everything just fell into place.
The intake therapist was also one of the two facilitators for the group. Here’s where it gets interesting. She told me who the other facilitator was and I’m sure my mouth fell open. It was the counsellor, who I will call “L”, who wouldn’t take me on when I first begun searching for a T because I needed more supports in my life. I told the intake counsellor the situation but that I actually didn’t have a problem with L being there. I asked her to inquire if L had a problem with me being in the group. Apparently she didn’t.
Going to group therapy was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I was so nervous before each session that I would be physically ill. I thought with time this would ease off but it never did. I would often have to take clonazepam beforehand in order to walk into the room and to stay there.
The problem was that I didn’t want to hear the other women’s stories for in hearing their stories I would hear mine. I was, and still am to a certain extent, in denial. What a hard thing to break through.