Almost a year ago, I set out on a mission to find a way to control my anxiety. I wanted to start therapy and learn how to move past all the things that were holding me back, like my father leaving me, my shaky faith, and my social anxiety. I went into therapy full throttle, expecting it to be this grand time of gabbing and opening my heart and crying and feeling so great about letting it all hang out.
The truth is, letting it all hang out is hard. So hard that I… really didn’t know how to do it. I didn’t know how to open up to someone I had just met. I think this is partly where my self-esteem issues lie, where I’m worried that I’m wasting this therapist’s time with my little woe-is-me problems. I’m not depressed or suicidal or dealing with the death of a loved one or anything like that. I’m just… anxious a lot. Feeling abandoned. Feeling confused. Feeling hurt.
During my first therapy session, I had to fill out a questionnaire about myself, mainly to give the therapist an idea of where I was at mentally and how she could help me. The questionnaire scared me to death. I felt my hands growing cold and clammy and my mind racing as my eyes scanned the page. I don’t remember exactly the questions that were asked, but I remember this crippling feeling of fear as I thought about what I was doing. I was admitting I had a problem. I couldn’t handle this problem on my own. I needed help. But reaching out and asking for help isn’t in my nature, it isn’t something I do naturally. I would rather spend 30 minutes trying to figure out a work problem on my own than take 1 minute to ask a coworker because I don’t want to inconvenience them and I want to do it on my own. So admitting this? Admitting that I needed therapy to solve a problem? That was hard. It’s still hard to come to terms with. I know, logically, it’s not weak to ask for help. I know it takes intense courage and bravery and strength to ask for help, to go to therapy. But I felt weak. I felt broken and used and discouraged and even a little hopeless. I filled out that questionnaire with a shaky hand, knowing I wasn’t completely truthful in my answers, and that I marked some things as “never” or “once in a while” that should have been marked as “often.” I didn’t want her to automatically think I was a basket case. Even though I most likely was. (Am?)
I couldn’t be honest with myself, because I was so scared of what someone – this stranger, this person who deals with people like me for a living, who wants to help me – might think. I was terrified of really putting a name on this mental battle I was waging every day.
And then there were my therapy appointments. My therapist was a woman, a Christian, someone who seemed like the perfect fit for me. And while the sessions were enlightening, I couldn’t open up to her. I didn’t know how to really go about telling her how I felt about some things. And maybe part of that is that I’ve been so good at hiding what I’m feeling, of tucking away these little pieces of my anxiety into their safe place, that I didn’t know how to express what I was feeling. I couldn’t be honest with her because I didn’t know how to be honest with myself.
I felt lost in therapy. I felt as if I was floundering and I was wasting her time and wasting my time and it all felt pointless. I didn’t know what to say. I guess I just thought therapy would be a little bit easier. Not in the way where it would feel as if I were at Disney World for an hour, but easy in the way where I would have a place where I could talk openly and freely. As if she would ask the questions and I would answer them. But she didn’t ask the questions.
Perhaps we just weren’t a good match, and perhaps I wasn’t ready then.
But then my job change happened and my anxiety was at its all-time worst. I was anxious about leaving a decent job for a new one. (What if I was fired?) I was anxious about telling my boss I was leaving. (What if she gets upset?) I was anxious about starting a new job. (What if I’m expected to know everything there is to know about SEO copywriting on the first day?) I was anxious about where I would sit and the people I would work with. (What if they were mean?) I was anxious about a new commute, a new building, a new lunch room. (What if I hate this new job?)
Obviously, these are probably the same fears most people have when leaving the comfortable for the unfamiliar, when going through a big change, but it all felt magnified. I couldn’t sleep and I felt as if I was in a constant state of panic and fear and doubt and played the “What If” game like a pro. While everyone around me was telling me how excited they were for me, I was just trying to keep my head above water. I was just trying to not fall apart.
It was then I decided I needed to be honest with myself. While I am a generally happy person, can find the silver lining in most situations, and know how blessed I am with the life I have, I struggle with anxiety and it holds me back from so many things. Coupled with my anxiety is my low self-esteem which, at 25 years old, I had hoped to have had a handle on. I had hoped I could look past everything I’m not to see everything I am. But I can’t and I struggle with it and when you struggle with low self-esteem, it’s hard to get ahead in life. You second-guess everything, from building strong friendships to finding love to taking leaps of faith to even understanding your place in therapy. My self-esteem held me back from fully diving into all therapy could bring me because I was too worried that my therapist had better things to do than listen to little ole me blabber about the silly things that brought her pain.
I don’t have a neat way to wrap up this post. I didn’t come to any major epiphanies about how to control my anxiety or help my self-esteem. And I’m still struggling with learning how to be honest with myself. I know I need to be in therapy, so if you’re going to give me advice about that, I know I need it. And maybe the major epiphany is that I realize how much I still struggle with my self-worth and self-esteem. Maybe it’s understanding that I need to learn to be honest with myself. And that opening up to a stranger doesn’t have to be scary. And that my problems are important, even if they feel small in the grand scheme of things. If it’s affecting my life and causing me to miss out on experiences and relationships, then these small-to-me problems are big problems.
So maybe my first try at therapy didn’t work out. Maybe I didn’t connect with the right therapist and maybe it wasn’t the right time and maybe I didn’t magically learn how to be open about my feelings and what I’m going through. I still believe in therapy, I still want to find the right person. But if it taught me one thing, it taught me that I have to believe I am worthy enough for therapy. I have to be truthful with myself and with my therapist about my emotions and thoughts and feelings and stop downgrading how I feel because it makes me nervous or feel bad about myself. I have to trust that giving a voice to my anxiety, it will be the catalyst to change.
When we were going through the Battle Royale when we lived in the Great White North I was a wreck. An anxious, crying, frustrated mess. It was taking its toll on so many aspects of my life and I had it. So I went to a counselor for help. I was terrified. I hated admitting that I could do things on my own. I hated not being able to turn to myself for help. I hated that Knight couldn’t help (or that I didn’t let him?).
I spent most of my first session crying. Spilling my guts about everything and anything that happened. For me, it was one of the best experiences and decisions I’ve made. I left feeling lighter, learning how to cope, with a glint in my eye. I haven’t gone since we moved, but there are moments when I really miss that emptying my heart/soul feeling to a total stranger, someone who is paid to listen to me, someone who acts as an objective person, and to kind of recharge/refuel and then collect myself, pick up and go forward.
I hope you can find someone you are comfortable with, if you choose to try again. xo
I went through three therapists before I finally found the one to truly help me. When I decided to go back last year, it was a truly rough time and I was able to just let it all flow out. That time just felt like the right time to do it and it felt good because she also guided me along. I have a new therapist now (they’re med school residents) and it’s even better. It’ll take some time, even if you find someone who you really like. It even helps when you tell him/her how you feel about being there. I’m optimistic that if you choose to try again, it will be better.
I’ve struggled with anxiety these past few years, and still do, although I’ve gotten a bit of a handle on it. It does come out in stressful situations, but I try to slow my roll and relax and just focus on the good.
I started off on meds, but I didn’t want to continue with them and when I felt I was ready, I got off of them and have been looking at more natural alternatives. Now I take a bunch of vitamins and try to be active and go outdoors as much as I can. I have this habit of zoning out on the computer, writing, blogging, working, and ignoring my family, ignoring myself, and that really does me in. So if I “schedule” outdoors time, working out time, yoga time, mixed with a few different vitamins, I feel way better. Confidence up, worries away. Diet also helps a bit, but i haven’t quite figured that part out yet, when things get tough my husband and I are both emotional eaters who reach for pizza & beer. Hope things get better for you.
I have had two experiences with therapy – one was terrible and one was (is) fantastic. I saw one several years ago in the midst of my eating disorder and it was not good. I didn’t like her, I felt like she was judging me, and honestly? I didn’t want to get better. The entire experience was a waste of her time and my parent’s money because we just did not click. Two years ago I started seeing a different therapist when I decided to divorce my then-husband. She was my life saver, swear to goodness. I actually don’t think I need to go anymore but I’m sad about breaking up with her so I’ve been dragging out the end for the last six months. Even though I started seeing her for help with my divorce, she actually has helped me tackle so many lingering ED issues that I just ignored for many years. Basically, I guess what I’m saying is don’t give up yet. I think, as with any relationship, you need to “click” with your therapist. I agree with Natasha that it helps to voice your fears about therapy/past therapy experiences. It made my current therapist aware of my not-so-great first go at therapy and I think having her aware of that helped lessen my fears about trying it again. Good luck! xo
I hope that you do find a therapist that you feel comfortable with and can really open up to as that is the most important aspect of your relationship with your therapist. I have done therapy at various points of my life and if I was a little less busy and had a more flexible work schedule, I’d be going now as well as I am still working through a lot of emotions related to my move/RA diagnosis/etc. I think the first step is admitting that you need help and acknowledging that it’s healthy and ok to need help! Like you said in the post, it takes strength and courage to admit that and seek help!
Like some of the others have said, I have had some great and no so great therapists (I have seen four different ones since I was 19 for anxiety and eating problems). The match is SO important… you do want to trust them. You need them to make you feel like your issues are important (they ARE) and that they are a good listener. It seems even more crucial for you, since you are nervous about these things to start with, that you find the right match. You will. They are out there! 🙂
Hehe. For the first 3/4 of your post I was all set to comment “YOU STILL NEED TO SEE A THERAPIST.” And then you were all “I know I need to see a therapist” which threw my plan out the window. But still. You need to see a therapist.
Like others said, it took me more than one therapist to find The One and it really sucks because it’s like “How many times do I have to share this story?!” It got really annoying but then it was awesome once someone knew EVERYTHING and was able to validate my feelings and not be all “You crazy.” That was probably the best thing. To have someone qualified, who really knew what she was talking about, tell me that me feeling like I was going nuts was actually totally normal and that she could help. I hope you find that person, and I hope you don’t get discouraged if your first sessions are a little lackluster in the word-vomiting. If you get a good vibe in general, keep pursuing. It’s kind of like any kind of relationships, sometimes it just takes a couple times before you’re ready to bare your soul. It’s normal. 🙂
I think it’s very cool that you’ve realized all this about your experience with therapy. I seriously considered contacting a therapist about starting sessions; even went so far as to submitting for information (which I never received, for some reason–I tried to pretend my feelings weren’t hurt…heh), but what helped me the most, I think, I was praying and writing and reminding myself that once I could look my demons in the eye without completely freaking out, it really wasn’t the end of the world, and I realized that a lot of the time the problem was just in my head, so I started working to alter the way I thought and responded to certain situations. While it can be immensely helpful to get someone else’s insight and perspective, it really does take the right person–the right chemistry between therapist and patient, and it’s smart of you to realize when something’s working and when it’s not, but maybe that could also just be a sign of how intense your anxiety is. Whatever the case, it’s brave that you’re doing it and talking about it and not hiding from the things that cause you grief in life. It is a very humble thing to admit that you need help. A lot of people don’t understand that or even agree with it, so I totes commend you. 🙂
Oh, Stephany, I feel you on this. I FEEL YOU. I’ve blogged so many times about my anxiety, about trying to get a handle on it. I’ve joked about it, joined in on this apparent bandwagon that is “anxiety” as a trendy buzzword. But nothing feels cool or hip about panicking EVERY DAY, like, all the time. I’m in a really bad place right now, in the middle of a lot of transitions, & when things settle down, in 2014, I need to actually FIND A THERAPIST. I do. I can’t always keep saying “when” & “if.” I need to DO it. But I’m going to. And we should hold each other to it.