Succumbing

I've discontinued seeing my therapist. After a year or so we were just covering the same ground repeatedly. I hadn't shown or experienced any improvement and I've learned that I'm either unable or more realistically unwilling to help myself. I felt I was wasting her time as well as mine. Counseling has never helped. I blame myself because therapists offer endless tools I can use to chip away at the destructive thought process that I've subjected myself to most of my life but I just can't seem to commit. It's laziness, complacency, fatigue and a crippling heaviness that prevents me from helping myself. I know it's only ME that can help ME but I've come to realize I really don't want to do the work. I want it to happen FOR me. I've reached some sort of point-of-no-return.

This latest therapist made the suggestion to try to accept my situation and stop fighting but I'm not even sure how to do that. It's tantamount to finding comfort on a bed of nails. You're always going to toss and turn until you find the slightest shred of comfort.

I don't know what to say anymore. I might wrap up this blog. I'm sure I'm just typing to myself instead of any readers. There hasn't been any comments in a long time. In any case, until some miracle happens or I just fade away, I hope I've made a connection with someone out there. Forgive my hopeless tone.