Psychotherapy Experience - Part Three

One thing they never tell you about group therapy is how much you’ll cry for others. It is thought that some people with BPD have higher levels of empathy and compassion for others as a result. It’s heavily debated, but I feel like I have a very strong sense of it. When I see people in emotional pain it’s almost as if I am feeling it myself. That often leads to me avoiding people when they are upset or angry, in order to cope. Being trapped in a room with emotional people, would have scared the hell out of me back when I first started. It was a bit like exposure therapy in a way. I would have to learn to allow myself to feel the pain of others and not shy away. There really was some serious pain and trauma in this group. Because of confidentiality and not wanting to trigger anyone reading this I won’t go into detail, but so many topics were covered. We often found ourselves crying together. Fighting back the emotions became our enemy as we tried to navigate painful memories and allow ourselves to feel in the safe space we’d created. 


I’m not entirely sure how psychotherapy works, but truthfully talking about my life and issues  seemed to have a positive effect on me. At the start of therapy I had felt like I had no sense of who I was or what I wanted from life. I simply did whatever would make other people happy or what I thought was the right thing to do. I wasn’t living for myself at all. I had given up on me a long time ago. It felt like I was always wearing masks to hide the nothingness and confusion underneath. I always thought there was no one underneath, like I was just born wrong and empty. The first year of therapy gave me an awareness there was someone underneath. It taught me that it was okay to be angry and it was okay to be upset. I learned that if I started crying, I could stop it in time to get on with my life. It also gave me the fight to continue on despite feeling as if I would never get better. I suppose in a way it gave me hope. 


Meeting like minded people who were also struggling was one of the greatest gifts. I had grown up feeling so alone, as if no one truly understood. But these girls did, and the therapists too. A bond had formed between us. The only disappointment was that a year had passed and it was almost time for the group to end. I couldn’t believe it had gone so quick. I had talked about so much of my past, and the more current issues I was experiencing. Getting it out into the open felt really good and allowed me to start analysing my unhealthy behaviours. 


The last session was really emotional. We all gave each other cards and tried to secretly exchange our numbers. We knew we weren’t supposed to, but something about the end of group just seemed so final. In the world outside of therapy we felt alone. You don’t usually run into others that have experiences like that; at least not that are going to share their issues openly. There’s plenty of people online, but those sorts of communities can be incredibly toxic and triggering. The ending felt like I was losing some much needed allies.

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