Other people’s words about … life after therapy
It’s an odd sensation to be done with therapy, to believe it is no longer available to me as a recourse. I watch as people around me flow in and out of therapy, and as therapy flows in and out of them. I feel a familiar sense of alienation, and sometimes I’m also troubled by an obscure sense of uncleanliness, as if my resolution to abjure therapy were a perverse abstention from universally accepted hygienic practices — as if I’d taken a vow never to wash again. Therapy is an ablution, a Ganges in which everyone bathes.
From ‘Mockingbird Years’
by Emily Fox Gordon
There are two things I experimented with to excess in the years before I turned forty: restricting my eating and, like Emily Fox Gordon, consulting therapists.
So many different eating plans.
So many damn therapists!
I thought they would make me a better, healthier, happier person, but I was wrong on both counts.
Things that make me happy that don’t involve therapy or dieting (1):
A bunch of flowers planted in the dune, which I happened upon on a recent run
But in my early forties I came to a turning point, and now, nearing fifty, I know there’s no turning back. I am done with diets and therapists forever.
So here is my promise, to myself and to you: I will grow old therapy-free, no matter how unenlightened that may leave me.
And I will grow old (joyfully, unrepentantly) eating cake!
Things that make me happy that don’t involve therapy or dieting (2):
Views like this on my walk to work in the morning