A Year of Therapy: What I’ve Learned
Opening up to appreciate what’s inside.
As we’re about to wrap up the Skype call, L. asks me something unexpected: So, what do you think you learned so far? It took me a tiny second to realize she wasn’t talking about today’s session, she was talking about all the things I’ve learned since we started our collaboration a year ago. I cannot believe it’s already been a year of us meeting weekly. When did the time pass?
Naturally, it took a calamity for me to start therapy. My 7-year relationship had ended abruptly and I wanted things to go back to “normal” as soon as possible. I had just met someone new and I didn’t want to mess things up. I was scared, frustrated, and anxious that this is going to be my life from now on: almost 30, always on my toes about my relationships, fluctuating weight, and lying to my mother about my life choices in general.
The first session was more of an introduction: half logistics, half me blurting out what I thought were my problems. L. mentioned that this is a two-way partnership: if the two of us don’t connect, she’ll refer me to someone else. At the time, I had already attempted talking to two other people and felt out of place, so hearing this disclaimer already made me feel more at peace.
Therapy requires a two-way connection. You need to find the right person for you.
The logistics were around the time and day of our meeting and the price. I then proceeded to introduce myself which quickly derailed into me talking about my problems. It was only a couple of sessions later that I realized I am not defined by my problems, that there’s more to me than what is happening to me but I’ll get back to this.
We think we know what our issues are, but that’s usually just the tip of the iceberg.
Surprisingly, the one thing that I’m still struggling with is externalizing my feelings. The conversation usually starts pretty slow, talking about something trivial, a certain situation that bugged me during the week, and it gradually transitions into something deeper. It’s hard to give your feelings a voice, and it’s even harder to understand what you are feeling in the first place. But therapy is a safe place, a room where you can talk sh*t about your friends, you can voice your fears about your relationship, and analyze your insecurities.
Therapy is where you can be yourself, with all your fears, desires, and outbursts. Allow yourself to cry, scream, or laugh out loud. No judgment.
As a perfectionist, I always wanted my life to be on point. Therapy helped me realize that the standards I basing my existence on weren’t my own. My family, the community I am part of, my friends, society in general, all contribute to the image I had of myself. The constant conflict between what I wanted, what I considered good, and what others considered bad was excruciating. The constant tension I was feeling resulted in multiple depressive episodes, general low self-esteem, and fear of the unknown.
I’ve finally accepted who I am. I am proud of my achievements and I understand why others’ views of me will never coincide with my own.
Therapy teaches you to be genuine. Even if you are an introspective person, like me, chances are you are pretty harsh on yourself. I learned to be nice with myself, to find confront in what I do, to accept how I feel about various things and to stop being someone I’m not. Mind you, I still get sad every now and then, but I know it’s not a bad thing.
Your childhood will come back to haunt you
Some of the most intense sessions I’ve had were around my childhood. My appendicitis surgery, a memory about other kids laughing at the way I dressed, my mom being so strict with me, my dad and his oversees job, these are just a few examples of moments that shaped the adult I am today.
Your therapist might try different techniques for you to remember the most important, the most hidden memories. L. had me draw, write down dreams, play with my hands in the sand, the association of words, and my personal favorite, making lists.
To give you an example of cause and effect from a childhood experience, I’ll talk a little about my surgery when I was around 10 years old. I had mentioned it before to a couple of people but I could never figure out why it was still such a predominant memory. There was something about it that I couldn’t shake.
Back in those days, around 1999, the appendicitis surgery would be done with an epidural. I entered the surgery room with no clothes, and the guy who was supposed to give me the anesthetic, that painful shot in the spine, measured me with his eyes and smiled. I was prepubescent, still not understanding a lot about my body, and here’s this older dude, looking at me naked and smiling. The surgery itself was equally traumatic. I was fully conscious during the whole thing, with nurses putting needles in my veins and telling me to stop moving my head. But the one thing that broke me, was the male anesthetist sexualizing me at 10 years old.
This created ripples throughout my whole life. Some of the effects are body issues, intimacy, trust, fear for doctors and strangers, a tendency to hide and go into fight or flight whenever I would be confronted. I have the means to deal with it now and the right tools to understand it.
Hearing L. telling me she is sorry for what I went through and not downplaying the importance of the event was amazing.
Therapy validates your emotions and experiences. It teaches you that what you feel matters and that you are valuable.
Deciding to go through therapy is not easy. There’s still a lot of stigmas associated with the topic. I was somewhat biased against it myself, thinking it’s a sign of weakness to need to talk about your problems. But we do need to vent about the stuff that bothers us, and I’d rather do it with a professional, rather than projecting my frustrations on my boyfriend, friends, or family.
Therapy improved my state of mind, my self-esteem, and taught me how to communicate. So, do you have a therapy story?
