Dear psychologist supporter, my friend,
You've seen me through the worst. You were there when I was still a teenager and battling with a broken heart, my insecurities, my anxiety, my depression and my not quite diagnosed obsessive compulsiveness. Back then, I felt like a hopeless case, mainly because I was dealing with so many obstacles at once. The year you met me was the year when I was morphing from adolescent teenage-hood, and into full fledged adulthood, and it was an awkward time. Nineteen and twenty were the hardest times for me, but you were there and you witnessed me at my lowest of lows, more than anyone else. You were one of the very few people I could spill my secrets and embarrassments to, the things I was ashamed of, the things that I wish I could change about myself and how incredibly exhausted I was. As we sat in the room, I would stare at the red carpet with a tear stained face and a low heart and very little energy - and you would remind me that I couldn't live like that anymore; I needed to get help. You wanted me to be the happiest that I could be. But most importantly, you didn't make me feel guilty about what I was feeling - you made me feel validated and acknowledged.
Each time was made up of an array of various emotions - elated, confused, frustrated, hurt, anxious, depression, irrational, insane . . . tired. You've seen me in each state, and I have to wonder how much patience it takes for one to do that. But each time I've displayed these feelings, you adapted to them and ran with it. Again, there were no judgements. Whenever I was depressed, you wouldn't force me to be happy, but you would simply talk to me. By the end of the session, my heart had obtained just a little bit more hope than it had before walking into the appointment. If I was angry, you let me swear and shout and bite my nails and say awful things. Sometimes, you would nod your head and agree with me, and I know you didn't agree with me just because you felt obligated to - but because I could sense how genuine and down to earth you really are. I think that's one of the things I'm most grateful for in having you as a person to talk to . . . you're real, and that makes me feel even more supported and not alone. You don't feed me things I want to hear, or sugarcoat it. There have been times where I would bring up an irrational thought for the billionth time in all of our appointments, and you had to tell me that we had to focus on something else because there was no point in fueling my anxiety. So, thank you for that. I needed a little push, and you knew how to give me patience and care, along with some tough truth. If I didn't receive that and would continue to pity myself in my depression, I wouldn't have made it this far. Thank you for helping me with all of that.
You'd remind me of my good traits.
"You're really funny", you've told me multiple times.
You would remind me of what was right in front of me, and how to control my anxieties to the best of my ability, and when I truly tried, it all worked out in the end.
Or there were a couple of times when I admitted that I didn't deserve to be happy and I would constantly punish myself and you said "How is that working out for you?"
I know I've been stubborn at times, and you know it too, but more than anything I am so thankful to have a person who is obligated to talk to me (But hey, this is your profession, so you must enjoy it to some extent - helping people, I mean) Through all the therapists and psychologists I've been through, you're one of the best, and I mean that. And I know I have set backs where I don't want to do anything, and I'm crabby and angry at the world - but at the end of each session, no matter what, I always feel at least a little bit better than when I first did before walking into your room. And that - that is huge for me. So thank you, thank you so much.
Sincerely, your patient, Julia
