You know what one thing that bothers me about being in therapy?
Being happy because of the happiness or success of others isn’t valued as highly as being happy for oneself.
But like, sure I’m content getting through the day to day, but seeing my loved ones succeeding? Being healthy? Getting joy from watching others thrive? That’s the shit.
We had this analogy when we were doing couples counselling a couple years ago, that when he was in survival mode, my partner’s mental health was in the basement. It’s where he goes to isolate and so others don’t have to ‘deal with his moods’ except that he was constantly forgetting that we live in the same house. And he was accidentally leaving traps for me to fall into the basement with him. And when I would find myself down there, I would be looking for him, looking for a light, looking for the stairs.. but he had made the space so cluttered it was impassable.
When my partner was on the cliff of alcoholism and trying to dig himself out of C-PTSD, OSI, and moral burn out, he had created a LABRINTH of that basement. And as much as I tried to remain on the top floor, I still lived with him and checked on him in the basement but I would get lost down there. How could I possibly be happy when my favourite person in the world is so miserable?
It always feels like a cop out now when people ask how I’m doing and I say that I’m great and go on to explain how well my partner is doing. But damn, I’m fucking proud of him. He’s nearly 6 months sober. He’s so much healthier and happier now, how could I NOT be happy??













