Therapy is not a bad thing. It is not a dirty word, or something gross or to be ashamed of. Therapy is a support system and something to allow you that time and area to grieve, cry, yell, laugh, and express yourself in ways you can't anywhere else.
Therapy does not mean you are crazy or need to be medicated. Although if you need medication, by all means, take it, and accept the help you are being offered. Therapy is a place to work on yourself, with no judgment, no shame, and nothing holding you back.
I go to therapy. I am medicated.
I suffer from PTSD, Depression, and Anxiety.
My dad died in 2018, and my whole life fell apart. I was faced with the realization of having only one parent. I came to the realization my father was not always a nice man, and I had to learn how to be me. So many things happening at once, along with going through the grieving process of my father's sudden death.
"Who is Jessica?" my mom, my roommate, and my therapist asked me this all the time. Who am I? What do I want? What do I like? Where do I wanna go? All these questions about me, because it's time to take care of me, and truthfully the answer is; I don't know.
Jessica has always been this person who takes care of others. Cooks, cleans, worries about bills, does her homework and other people's. Jessica grew up a bit differently than everyone else, she grew up not building a personal identity, but building other people up.
I attend therapy every three weeks. Sometimes that is too much to close together, and sometimes but the third week I am eating away at my skin and needing to sit in front of my therapist. Therapy does help, it helps in ways you would never realize it does. Therapy has taught me deep breathing techniques, mindfulness, and it is helping me work through my grief, guilt, anger, and sadness.
My therapist is the one who diagnosed me with PTSD, which helped me understand why I was having these constant vicious, crystal clear, flashbacks. I called them visions, it was the best way to explain it. Like I was living it and seeing it all happen over and over again. But I knew I wasn't there, It was like these 'visions' took over my eyesight of what I was currently looking at. It felt like I was literally being pulled out of my current moment and someone was playing a movie reel of the worst week of my life.
My therapist found that and helps me with that because I talk to her. I tell her things because I feel safe there. If you do not feel safe with your therapist, or feel like you talk to them openly and comfortably that can mean two things.
One, you are not ready for therapy. You have started the process of going, and planted the seed of mental health help in your mind, but you have somethings still holding you back, and that is okay. Go at your own pace.
Second, you have the wrong therapist. My first therapist was an older man, and there was no connection between us. I did not go back. My current therapist appears to be closer to my age when we talk she takes an interest in what I am saying. Not the whole, "that's her job, you are paying her to care." but like she actually understands where I am coming from.
Nikki does not take notes when we talk, so I don't feel like some lab experiment. She has learned the names of the people I talk about and who they are (friends, family, sisters), she does not have to keep asking me who so-and-so is. We click.
Go to therapy, even if you haven't had a traumatic experience in your life. It is a wondrous thing and you will be so surprised by what you will find out about yourself, and how to help yourself.
If you have had a traumatic experience in your life, go to therapy. Get the help you deserve. Our mental health will eventually control our entire like, we need to keep it just as healthy as we do our blood pressure.
