“I’m hopeless,” I sobbed to my therapist, “I’m never going to get better.”
I had been crying in therapy for nearly an hour. My therapist was really experienced. But even with his knowledge and guidance, I was convinced that nothing was going to change.
I’m never going to recover, I thought to myself. And then, my therapist excused himself from the room. Uh oh, I thought, feeling uncomfortable.
My therapist had never done this before. I assumed that my negativity must have been so annoying that he needed a break.
[When we struggle with mental health issues, our brains can often fear the worst and come up with all kinds of inaccurate, imaginative scenarios].
He walked back into the room carrying a beautiful, worn out Martin guitar.
Hmmm, I wondered, a bit frustrated. Is he going to sing for me?
I was locked in a very negative place. And while a small part of me appreciated his creativity, a much larger part of me was convinced that this wasn’t going to help. And I wasn’t happy.
Nothing is going to make a difference.
To continue reading, please click here to read the full post on Eating Recovery Center’s blog.