No one aside from my best friend and my sister (and now you of course) actually knows I'm in therapy. For some reason there seems to be this stigma surrounding the idea of therapy, like it's weak to need to ask for help or it's only for people who have experienced a horrible childhood. In reality, I'm finding that we all have problems and, perhaps, if we were more upfront and open about them, then we wouldn't feel so alone in our struggles. That's one reason I have for starting this blog: to help people see that everyone struggles and everyone can use some help now and then (and for that, you're welcome). But this isn't an entirely selfless endeavor. I also hope that this blog will help serve as an avenue to chronicle my own progress through therapy and help me put the whole process in order. (You'll find that I like order).
As the title suggests, I'm hoping that by following me through my journey it might have a positive influence on the perspective from which you view your own life and circumstances, so thank you for allowing my process of helping me to also (hopefully) help you.
I was running when the idea to start a blog hit me and instantly a couple of things crossed my mind. First, I became so excited that I nearly fell off the treadmill (wouldn't be the first time). Second, I felt a little upset that I hadn't come up with the idea sooner. How cool would it have been to be able to track my progress right from the very start? I went back and forth on whether to start at the beginning and detail my experience through therapy up to this point (a retrospective blog, if you will) or whether to just dive right in from the point in therapy at which I find myself now. One of the things I learned on day one of therapy is that wherever you're at, in this moment, is exactly where you're supposed to be, and is totally fine. So with that in mind, let me begin.
I walked into my therapist's office this afternoon, a now familiar and welcoming place with warm, modern decor, breathed in the usual comforting and recognizable scent that as of yet I have been unable to define and glanced up at the words "hope" and "dream" on the wall. I settled in to my usual place, an oversized leather chair seated across the room from her. My therapist, I'll call her P, began today's session as she begins all sessions, by asking me how my previous week had been. Rarely finding myself at a loss for words I immediately began to recount the details of my week. In particular, I had been feeling anxious about whether a coworker's return from maternity leave might upset the current dynamic at work. I had worked myself into a near frenzy coming up with all kinds of theoretical circumstances for the day of her return and things that could go wrong. When it came down to it, none of the situations I was worried about actually played out, and in fact, the day went much more smoothly than I could have even imagined.
Lesson learned: 95% of the things we worry about never actually happen, at least not the way we think that they will. There's little use getting worked up over these made up scenarios and yet we all tend to do it.
Armed with that knowledge, and the realization that I could use it to help prevent future potentially stressful situations, I gained a newfound level of confidence at work. Not only that, but I found that my confidence from work had a ripple effect that continued to play out in other aspects of my life over the next couple days. (Spoiler alert: the opposite can happen too!)
We also talked a little about how emotions from events can sometimes feel overwhelming, and that often it's not the emotion at all but the belief that you've attached to it that's overwhelming. An example: I was driving home yesterday, on Valentine's Day (and currently single), reflecting on the previous year when I had spent the day with my boyfriend at the time and I noticed myself feeling a little sad. In the past that sad emotion might have led me down a path of negative thoughts that would have only left me feeling worse. Instead, in that particular instance, I was able to recognize the emotion for what it was, accept it, and move on.
Approximately 4 months into therapy and really starting to feel some of the benefits of my progress, I still have what I consider setbacks, times when I'm feeling sad or when negative thoughts creep into my head. The difference now, I'm noticing, is that I'm starting to be able to separate the emotion from some deep seeded belief I once had about myself, or as I explained it to P, I feel the emotion on the surface but it doesn't shake my inner core as easily. I'm also finding myself more content in general, and more accepting of change, not feeling like I have to be so controlling or rigid about situations.
I find that I can often recognize or feel the effects of my therapy but can't quite pin down the underlying reason or process. P explained today that a person's degree of flexibility can be an indirect indicator of how happy they are. Makes sense.
I find that I can often recognize or feel the effects of my therapy but can't quite pin down the underlying reason or process. P explained today that a person's degree of flexibility can be an indirect indicator of how happy they are. Makes sense.
On a side note, I had a meeting with my accountant yesterday. (Yup, on Valentine's Day). He asked me how my year had been (from a financial standpoint I presume). But sitting there in that chair across the room from him and being asked that question I found myself in a familiar position and I had to fight the urge to start spilling every single detail of my past year. Instead I was speechless. He just paused and looked at me and said, "Well you look happy so it must have been a good year." And you know what? He's right.
-k
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