Hi, my name is Mary, and I need therapy.

Kitty Therapy!

The topic of therapy has come up more than a few times in Zoloft and Coffee. I have discussed how it is not a technique that works for me. How I don't really like talking to anyone, much less a stranger. How everyone thinks a therapist is god's gift to the mentally ill. How it only makes my racing mind run faster. Well, I am going to take all that back. I have been out of therapy for almost a month, and I am not ashamed to admit that I miss it.

To make a long story short, my insurance situation has made it more complicated for me to get the help that I need. What is the proper course of action when you find out that you have insurance through a family that you are estranged from? This is the dilemma that I am facing at the moment. 

Do I just go ahead and use it hoping they don't mind?

Do I ask permission to go through their plan and risk making it sound like I am only looking for a relationship to use them for their insurance? 

Or do I try to forge through the dense forest of bipolar and anorexia solo, without professional help?

While none of those options sound appealing to me, it seems like I have settled on the last one. I am navigating my way through pills, stressors, stigma, and triggers with nothing but my trusty journal who is getting quite a bit of attention these days. And I can't decide if it is the fact that I am too proud to ask for help or too scared to admit that I actually need it more than they know.

I did make a small, very small, effort to replace therapy with a support group. And when I say very small, I mean VERY small. I couldn't find the room it was being held in, so I turned back towards home and never looked back. Never made another effort to find that, or any other, support group again. And I justified it by saying that I don't even like talking, especially not to strangers. It's not a technique that works for me. Support groups are not god's gift to the mentally ill. Wait, have I been here before? Fuck. Maybe I should try again.

So that's where I'm at. If it seems like I'm meandering a bit, I probably am. I'm missing a stabilizing piece of my treatment. Missing it in more ways than one. But don't confuse my meandering for being totally lost. Sure, it provided me with some guidance and direction, but I will survive without it if I have to. I'm still ok.