Therapy is Dope
Thoughts on Mental Self-Care for our Generation | Part I
In my company’s Slack channel one day, someone shared a new app that silences notifications that could be potentially embarrassing when you’re screen-sharing during business calls. He posted a screenshot of the site’s examples of incriminating notifications that could be blocked using their app. While I personally found all of the examples hilarious (and there’s definitely a market need for this app… speaking for a friend…), I had to acknowledge that the “Therapy Appointment” example highlights a stigma on mental health that still prevails today.
Regardless of what older generations say, millennials have taken at least one step in the right direction — we’ve become much more aware of the importance of mental health and recognize the complexity and severity of stress. However, I think there’s still a lack of familiarity with the options out there for mental healthcare, especially when one requires more serious restoration than a yoga class or meditation can provide.
I recently tried something I never thought I would — therapy. I saw my therapist semi-regularly over the course of a few months, and it was fantastic. With the goal of helping to normalize seeking therapy/counseling for mental health — because conceptually, it really is no different than going to say, a physical therapist or dentist — I’m sharing my experience with it as a relatively “normal”, middle-to-upper class 20-something.
Patient History
I have never sought or received any form of medication or treatment for my mental health. I have never had consistent thoughts that I think would be classified as depression or anxiety. I journal semi-regularly and have heart-to-hearts with close friends. I occasionally read long-form articles on the greater state of mental health in society and more frequently read listicles on mindfulness and “how to be happy.” I’ve dabbled in various mindfulness and productivity practices — from chewing my food more “mindfully” to bullet journaling. Yet, I was still feeling like I was going insane.
Patient Symptoms
I was not operating at the level of productivity and clarity I knew I was capable of at work. I was constantly tired, had trouble focusing, concentrating, and keeping up with conversations I should’ve had no problem following along with. My head felt like a hamster wheel of things I needed to get done, yet these tasks all felt empty at the same time. I felt like I was chasing waves — something I could never catch, something that had no structure. And I was constantly stuck in my head too, thinking about the never-ending list of things — all of which revolved around me — that needed to be done, then thinking about thinking about this list. I was falling into binge eating again, something I have struggled with for years and reached its worst point two years ago, the closest to being clinically diagnosed with a mental illness/eating disorder I’ve ever come. Additionally, I was still physically and emotionally carrying the weight gained from struggling with this disorder, so watching myself re-succumb to something I thought I was free from was devastating and further encouraged binge eating in a self-defeating effort to cope. So really, I was in the middle of this Venn diagram of a spinning hamster wheel, mindless wave chasing, and a narcissistic inferiority complex of self-destruction. Other factors (amongst many more) included: constant comparison through social media, a boy who didn’t feel the same way I did, and chronic inability to get myself to bed on time to get enough sleep every night.
Self-Diagnosis
One night, I could not fall asleep for six hours due to what I can only describe as self-loathing. Any of my past roommates can tell you I’m low-key narcoleptic, so this was unprecedented for me. As I lay awake, I confronted myself. How many times have I wallowed myself to sleep in sadness over the same people or reasons? How many times have I gone to bed finding peace in the fact that the day was finally over and that I was finally about to be at ease? How many times have I laid there mulling there over my disappointments, steeping in shame, utterly loathing my weakness for bringing it all upon myself? Why do I keep finding myself in moments like this? Why can’t I just be happy? I just want to be happy. This was the moment things clicked, and I decided to seek therapy. I had begun thinking about therapy the few weeks leading up to this night — one of my good friends had recently started going and was loving her experience. When I brought this up to another friend, she shared that she too had gone through therapy and enjoyed it. I had also become comfortable in general with recognizing mental health issues, so I was open-minded enough to try new methods of care. So on this night, unable to fall asleep because I couldn’t take it anymore, I contacted my friend’s therapist and asked if I could come in that week to try out a session.
Pre-Therapy
I’ll be frank — I was pretty concerned about the price tag of therapy sessions. Sure, I had health insurance, and I could afford them and keep living comfortably, but these sessions are far from cheap (at least on my particular insurance plan — my friend’s plan gets her sessions for a very reasonable co-pay; every plan differs, definitely check yours if you have one). Mental healthcare wasn’t something I was used to spending even a cent on. I journaled more than the average person, and I thought I was pretty introspective and self-aware — would sampling therapy be worth the price tag? Ultimately, my mindset shifted the night that I couldn’t sleep. That night, I realized that I was not progressing on my own, that my methods were not effective or sustainable and had not been for years. Recognizing that I needed to do something different was what validated this decision for me.
Therapy
I loved therapy almost immediately. Even though I anticipated it, it is truly so freeing to open up to a complete stranger. I had total permission to talk about myself without a shred of guilt or self-consciousness. My therapist sympathized, but did not patronize or pity. She called out dissonances I didn’t like confronting, but was not accusatory. Not every insight she initially provided was new — in fact, I had already formed most of her insights myself prior to the appointment (I’ve heard this is usually the case with the first few sessions as the therapist is getting to know you). However, the validation from her similar insights as a health professional as well as her willingness to draw secondary insights across aspects of my life I subconsciously didn’t want to go into myself were incredibly helpful. Millennials and consumer brands these days lust after “authenticity” — well, it doesn’t get more real than a therapy session. There is no other motive than to be your complete, bare, vulnerable self. There’s no judgment, only understanding and clarity. Of course, close friends and family are invaluable and utterly irreplaceable. But there’s a difference between opening up to a close friend on the couch over a glass of wine and being in a quiet, warm room with another human being who has no preconceived notion of your life and is entirely focused on helping you and only you to understand and accept yourself. There’s also something different about stepping outside of your head and vocalizing thoughts to another person rather than staying within it when journaling or meditating. I would leave these sessions feeling calm, clear-headed, structured, and empowered.
I want to emphasize that going to therapy sessions was not like I was quarantined to an intensive recovery unit where I had to go into a hidden therapy cave and nurse myself to sanity every weekend. Rather, it felt much more like using a productivity or wellbeing tool for everyday life, like working out or bullet journaling. Seeking therapy or counseling should be regarded as normal, because it is. It’s completely normal to want to talk to an individual who will listen to you without any judgement, who will put you in the center of their time and thoughts for an hour, to work with you in finding trends, providing validation, and bringing clarity to your life. There are definitely more nuances to the therapy experience, and I’m by no means an expert on this subject (For instance, I’ve heard that it can be difficult to find a therapist that works with you. I think it helped significantly that my therapist was referred to me by my friend, so I’d encourage using referrals.) However, my personal experience was enlightening and unexpectedly empowering, so I encourage others, if they have the financial means, to reframe how they think about it and remove the stigma. It’s not just a means of healing, but also a means of furthering yourself post-healing. Most of us are somewhere in the middle of the spectrum between clinically diagnosed mental illness and nirvana, so we need a combination of both means. Therapy was what I needed it to be for the particular state that I was in, whether that was a figurative crutch, guardrail, or superfood acai bowl.
This first part of “Thoughts on Mental Self-Care for our Generation” is meant to candidly share my personal experience. Part II will cover my thoughts on mental self-care as a whole that I’ve formulated, not exclusively during my therapy sessions, but throughout the time frame that I was going to therapy. Please stay tuned by following Advo on Medium and discuss with me next week :3
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