Exactly 3 weeks from tomorrow I will be done with cognitive therapy. My therapist feels that she’s done everything she can for me and there will be no grounds to submit to my insurance company for more visits.
I have many mixed feelings about being done. On one hand, it will be nice to not have to schedule my week around therapy visits. On the other, it’s like they’re saying, “this is as good as you’re going to get.”
I don’t want to be given up on. I know in my mind that this is not what’s happening, but it’s what it feels like. I described it to my best friend who let’s me rant about absolutely everything like this: I feel like a cookie that’s being taken out of the oven about 3 or 4 minutes too early. While still delicious, they aren’t very easy to get off the tray in one piece. They’re not solid.
I know that I have to take more initiative in my own recovery. I have to use the strategies that I learned in therapy and apply them to real life situations. For the first time since my incident, it’s all up to me.
I’m not so much scared as I am defeated. While therapy gave me strategies to help cope with my memory loss, it did not fix the problem. I always knew it was a long shot, but I guess I sort of hoped for a miraculous change. Like I would walk out of therapy one day and be completely healed. Unrealistic, I know, but now that I won’t even be going anymore it’s even more impossible. I don’t feel like I’ve reached the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m not sure the tunnel ever ends, to be honest.
I know I’ll never be 100 percent of what I used to be. I’ll always struggle. But what gets me through is looking back on where I was and seeing how far I’ve come. I’m improving every day, sometimes it’s just hard to see because the change is so gradual. Regardless, life goes on, and I am eternally grateful I get to experience it for a little while longer.
“I’m not where I should be. I’m not what I could be. But I’m not who I was.” -Real Friends