At my Psychologist’s

Well, writing about my illness is not as easy as I thought it would be. I thought I was really ready and with lot of things to say, but when it comes to action, I just get stuck. But I still want to keep going, it’s worth it. I had some really bad moments these past two weeks or more. I wanted to sleep all the time, I didn’t want to talk to people, I missed school just to be asleep…

Fortunatelly for me, I had an appointment with my psychologist on Wednesday. Fortunatelly because talking to her helped me a lot. She is really good, I like her. She pulled me from the worst this spring. I hadn’t seen her for about two, three months as she is in the town where I study and I hadn’t been there most of the summer. We talked and I cried. Some things are still good, my parents seems to accept my depressions, or at least partially, I don’t cut myself anymore and so… But I was so depressed and empty these past weeks that I got really scared that I will never be able to see the light again. I mean, this spring was so great for me, I changed in so many ways… and suddenly I felt none of that had happened.

We talked a lot, well I talked, she asked questions. We talked about me being unable to approve of anything I do. I know I’m good at lot of things, objectively seen. But I just don’t see it. I mean, I know it in my head, I just don’t feel it. She told me that I need to find a way to be able to praise myself, to appreciate myself. I honestly don’t know how to do it. Everytime I try to be proud of myself, I start feeling guilty. I don’t even know why, I guess I feel like it’s something wrong. We talked about the roots of me being unable to praise myself and as I had thought about the reasons many times before, I knew it. I was always pretty intelligent and I never had some big problems with school. And as my sister was the same, my parents never praised us. Almost never. I remember always being so proud of having good mark, but my parents didn’t notice. They noticed when I had worse than one (in my country, marks usually are one as the best and five as the worst), they asked me about my friend’s marks and why I wasn’t as good as them. I always wanted them to be proud and they never were. Well, they probably were, they just didn’t say it, they started when I was older, but then I didn’t care anymore. Well, I did care, but it was too late for that little girl inside me, nobody cared, when she was good. I admit when I talked about this, I cried, it hurts me. I know my parents love me and I know they always did. I know that my mum didn’t learn the “right relationship” at home and she wasn’t able to learn it for us. But that little girl inside, she tries to understand, but her heart it still wounded. I don’t know how to let it go, what to do. I know I have spend most of my life trying to make my parents proud, to make them say it. When it comes now the adult me is happy, but I still feel like it’s too late. It feels so heavy. Is it wrong of me to want something I can never have? Probably… At these moments I just fel so lost and don’t know where my path is. My psychologist says I am on my way and that I know where to go, I just don’t see it yet. I just hope she’s right, because right now, I’m just scared and tired. I just want to be happy, why does it have to be so hard?

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