wednesdays are for weeping

Yesterday was therapy day. I really didn't want to go. It is finally sunny and beautiful out. The kids and i are itching to go to the lake for the years first swim.

I have been feeling better. Adjusted to my change in medicine, sleeping a little better. I even cleaned the whole house and bounced on the trampoline. I haven't done that since i broke my tailbone - jump or clean.

But, i went. The thing that i really don't like about my case worker is that she leaves everything up to me; if i am given the chance to not talk, to not feel uncomfortable, i'm going to jump on that. She asked me what i wanted to work on.

"I dunno."

"Do you want to take this hour and read a book, or maybe go to the beach?"

"With you?"

"No. Instead of seeing me."

"Okay."

So. I'm done with therapy every week. For now. I will still see my psychiatrist every three weeks where he can continue to beat my heart up, but my case worker let me go. I can go back any time. I just feel very full of things to "work" on already. I do think it is beneficial and i am seeing positive changes. It is just too hard for my tender-hearted self to get beaten up on a weekly basis. I need more time in between to digest.