I should be doing my therapy homework but instead I am writing about it. I have put it off for about two weeks now. I am supposed to write a letter to my therapist about myself.
She wants me to write it as if it might be a friend who is writing about me and who knows me intimately and sympathetically . She wants me to write of the changes that I have made since I started therapy. And apparently she will also be writing a letter to me. That will be interesting as well as nerve-wracking. I know therapy is supposed to be all about me but I’m not comfortable with the attention towards myself.
So I open my journal to write and all I can do is stare at the paper. I am at a loss for words. I can’t think of any good things to say about myself but I could fill pages up with bad things. Why is that? There must be good things that I have done in therapy, ways in which I have changed for the better. My brain has been spinning trying to find something to write.
How have I changed since I have started therapy? Well, one thing I do know is that I have shared some things with my T that I have never shared with another single human being before.
Maybe I can start there as I stare at the blank piece of paper trying to figure out what to write.