Life gets us down sometimes. Curveballs are thrown left and right and as humans, sometimes we just can't deal with it on our own. There is so much stigma around mental health and therapy especially. Thankfully, our generation has expanded their education on the subject, but we still have quite a ways to go.
For me, the situation was a little different. I'd been in therapy for my entire life. I was the kid who was always being sent down to the guidance counselor's office in school ever since kindergarten. My point being, I was always exposed to some sort of 'therapy.' But when I had reached the age of sixteen, I was tired of it.
I was both mentally, physically, and chronically ill, but I was so sick and tired of that defining who I was as a person. I stopped therapy, I stopped taking my medication, and surprise surprise! I ended up in the hospital. I was trying so hard to prove that I could be normal, that I ended up quitting everything that helped me be as normal as I could be.
So, that night was spent with me perched on the end of a hospital bed while a social worker prodded me about whether or not I was suicidal. When they began talking about sending me off to a psychiatric hospital, that was the moment when I realized that if I was ever going to get better, I had to put the effort into it. Pills and therapy didn't define who I was, it was supposed to help me become the person I needed to be. Who I deserved to be; and I deserved to be happy.
Finding a therapist who you are able to click with isn't easy. It takes several attempts, different people, and a whole lot of miles put on your car from driving all over creation to meet with a new therapist.
I didn't give up, and I'm so glad that I didn't.
I finally met the perfect therapist who I truly believe saved my life. For her privacy, we'll refer to her as 'Jane'. Jane was the one who made therapy feel like sitting down for coffee with an old friend, while still helping me get to where I needed to be. She was nice, funny, and truly believed that I could get better. She listened to my problems while helping me solve them; she didn't belittle me or try to make those problems seem smaller than they were. Every week she gave me a task I needed to complete and those became the building blocks of how I was going to put my life back together again. Before I knew it, my charts went from being labeled 'severe anxiety' to 'mild anxiety' which was HUGE!
When my physical health took a tumble in 2018, my mental health went with it too. Jane reminded me that this wasn't a reversal of progress, it was just a bump in the road that I was going to get through. Now, she's helping me get through it.
All of those therapists who I had seen that weren't a good fit for me made me feel like therapy was stupid. One would shove essential oils on my problems and the other would yell at me the entire session. But it took a lot for me to realize that therapy is like a puzzle, and the pieces have to fit or it's not going to work. You just have to find your Jane.
Older generations are always telling us "Depression isn't real, you just need to get more fresh air." and quite frankly, it's a load of bull. Your mental health is just as important as your physical health, and sometimes you need medication or therapy to get where you need to be. There is nothing wrong with that.
Thank you, Jane, for helping me work my way back up from rock bottom.