Blogging about sex and self-esteem has been better than therapy for me. While it may not be true for everyone, writing about my life online is the best therapy I’ve ever experienced.
I have tried online therapy three times, and I’ve seen a therapist face-to-face once. So I do have some frame of reference.
I have an addictive personality. That’s a self-diagnosis just like the majority of my diagnoses are. I wouldn’t recommend diagnosing your mental illness yourself, but it works for me. Do not — as they say — try this at home.
Several years ago, I decided that I needed to see a therapist. However, I didn’t feel comfortable actually seeing a therapist in person.
Online therapy seemed like a perfect solution. So I opened an incognito tab on my MacBook and signed up for a popular text-based therapy program.
I was matched with a therapist who — to my surprise and joy — agreed to respond to my text messages seven days a week.
That’s where my addictive personality came in. Every evening before bed, I sat down with my laptop to craft elaborate messages to my therapist in the hopes that I’d have an answer by the time I woke up in the morning. That was invariably not the case.
So I spent the following day, every day, waiting impatiently for a response, checking my therapy chatroom over and over again until a message appeared.
Online therapy was fun for a while, but it was incredibly time-consuming thanks to my flawed approach. Unfortunately, my writing suffered. Instead of pouring my words onto my laptop screen, I was using my laptop exclusively to stalk that empty therapy chatroom for hours on end.
I’m sure my therapist would have found my behavior unproductive — if I had told her.
Since therapists, in my experience, simply listen and echo your thoughts back to you, I’ve found that blogging is just as effective for me to share my thoughts and feelings. If someone takes the time to write a helpful comment in response, that’s just a bonus.
I am brutally honest when it comes to my writing. There’s no such thing as oversharing, in my humble opinion. To me, it’s just sharing.
The reason why I take a no-holds-barred approach to telling my story with such honesty is that I hope someone who reads my words may feel less alone after reading them. I know I feel less alone after writing them.
When I talk about my fear of being naked with a man because of my body, or my frustration with being a woman who is naturally hirsute, or my struggles with swapping cupcakes for carrots, I do it out of love. If sharing my pain helps one person in addition to myself, then it was worth it.