When I was seven years old, I was led down a long hallway to talk to a woman I had never met before. The room had blue walls covered in bright, colorful posters depicting different emotions. I remember being given a stress ball. I remember being confused. I remember leaving and being told that she would help me, although I wasn’t quite sure what I needed help with. It wasn’t until years later that I realized what I had just experienced was a therapy session.
My time going to therapy in elementary school was short-lived, but I am grateful that it happened. It helped to demystify the idea of getting help and made it easier to talk to my parents about therapy when I needed it most.
Being an anxious high-schooler felt harder than any math exam and I entered the world of therapy once again when I was 15. At first, “regular” talk therapy was amazing. My therapist at the time helped me through a plethora of issues from texting my friends to surviving my not-so-great first job. I walked out of each session feeling refreshed and ready to take on the challenges of the upcoming week.
Then the pandemic hit. Nervous and incredibly overwhelmed, my 16-year-old brain decided to do something I do not recommend: I ghosted my therapist. I could rationalize going through the early stages of the pandemic with little help because “we’re all so anxious that we can’t focus, sleep, or even think about the future without having trouble breathing, right?” Let’s just say I was back in therapy within the next nine months.
Another challenge I began to face was that talk therapy did not seem to have the same effect that it once did. I was increasingly anxious and almost too self-aware for my own good. It’s a common problem for those with social anxiety disorder; we know our thoughts are irrational, but cannot make them go away. A therapist confirming my knowledge that it is irrational to think that all of my friends hate me does not exactly shut up the voice screaming in my head. Talk therapy still felt beneficial at times, but it wasn’t enough. It was time to consider something that felt even more taboo than therapy: psychiatric medication.
Even the words psychiatric medication sound big and scary. Medication is not right for everyone, but in my experience, anxiety meds are the best thing that ever happened to me. While I, now in college, had started to resent some of the “obligation” of going to therapy, combining it with medication is what worked for me and allowed me to prioritize my mental health. The bottom line is, don’t be afraid to try something new, just because it seems scary or feels taboo.
In the past I have looked at changing my therapist or not feeling like therapy is helping me through the lens of failure. It is important to remind myself that therapy should make me feel better, not stress me out more. While the mental health system certainly has its problems, I have found that going through the strenuous process of looking for a new therapist that actually makes you feel comfortable and welcomed can be extremely worth it.
For a plethora of reasons, I am about to enter a new stage in my therapy journey. As I prepare to meet someone new, I have been reminding myself of the many lessons that therapy has taught me thus far.
1. Therapy is what you make it
Therapists are not mind-readers. To get to the real issues, I have realized that it is best when I’m willing to delve into topics that I initially deem as “too complicated” or “too honest” to talk about with someone I just met. While it is scary to be open, I often find the biggest weight is lifted off of my shoulders when I am most vulnerable.
2. Your therapist should make you feel comfortable
Sometimes a therapist and a client are just not a good fit. If a therapy session makes me uncomfortable, I try to validate that feeling and recognize that neither of us is necessarily at fault. At the same time, I have found that having a therapist that makes me feel comfortable, heard, and relaxed is what works best. Don’t ignore red flags just because someone tells you to “stick it out for a while.”
3. Your life is complicated — embrace it
There have been too many times that I completely ignored something that’s been bothering me because it is “too long of a story” for my therapist to really “get it.” The longer I’d pretend these issues didn’t exist, the more uncomfortable I would feel bringing them up at all. In retrospect, I wish I had acknowledged this issue in therapy and worked with my therapist to figure out a way to communicate my feelings.
Therapy can be scary. Just as there is a long-time stigma surrounding having a mental illness, there is a similar stigma attached to receiving help. One of the stigmas I have struggled to disregard is the idea that I am “not sick enough” to deserve proper treatment for mental illness. However, I have learned the hard way that feeling “too healthy” for therapy and viewing this feeling as an excuse to stop going often leads to a sort of rock bottom that I don’t particularly enjoy.
Going to therapy, or even talking about going to therapy, feels taboo, but it shouldn’t. The more we talk about our experiences with mental health, the easier it becomes. Sometimes I hate therapy. I hate it because it reminds me that progress isn’t linear and is life-long. I hate it because it uncovers the scary, yet important truths within me. Sometimes I hate it because it makes me feel like I should keep going, keep climbing over the hurdles placed in front of me. I say I hate therapy, but hidden underneath all that hate is a whole lot of love. While me and therapy certainly have alove-hate relationship, my adoration and disdain both come with a sense of gratitude for its existence.
resources
If you or someone you know is seeking help for mental health concerns, visit the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) website, or call 1-800-950-NAMI(6264). For confidential treatment referrals, visit the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) website, or call the National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP(4357). In an emergency, contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK(8255) or call 911.