I don’t have too much experience with therapy.
I saw a therapist last year to help deal with the phobia I had as far back as I can remember (emetophobia, look it up. You may be surprised, it’s kind of different). It helped and she was nice, but that’s about it. I saw her for a few moths and she definitely helped me deal with my anxiety, but beyond that, it wasn’t like an oh-my-god-she’s-a-miracle-worker-and-I’m-cured-yay thing going on. She was nice. I felt better.
So now that I’ve decided to try to tackle this depression thing that has taken a hold of me in the past little while, I’ve decided to see someone again. I think that this could really help because, as I mentioned in my previous post, I’ve been doing some self-psychology with the help of Skin Deep and meditation (which I’ll delve into in a separate post), but I feel like if I have an outside person who knows the right questions to ask, I could move ahead much quicker. It would also be nice to have an outsider/professional/3rd party to talk to/cry to.
So my aunt and uncle have a good friend who’s a psychologist and they highly recommended her. I got really excited and booked a consultation appointment with her.
When I met her, I immediately got a nagging vibe that she wasn’t someone I would click with. Don’t get me wrong, she was super nice and I could tell she’s great at what she does, but my gut was screaming No! Wrong person for the job. I just felt like our personalities didn’t mesh. I need someone warm, super friendly and social to make me feel comfortable spilling my guts. She just wasn’t up to my expectations (which are often too high, and this is, coincidentally, something I need to work on). I booked an appointment with her for the following week before I left her office because… well, I don’t know exactly why. I think I felt bad. I think I thought I was just being picky and stupid because I realized that she’s clearly a really nice person and knows what she’s doing.
The moment our discussion was over, I felt like I wanted to cry. Something just wasn’t right. I didn’t feel 100% comfortable or happy, and I was really disappointed. I felt let down. When I stepped outside and started walking toward to subway, I actually did start to tear up. I had a huge lump in my throat and I just felt that looming black hole pulling me in.
I called my dad right away and I had trouble getting out my words. I just felt so emotional and I didn’t know why. He told me that sometimes you click, sometimes you don’t, it happens and I should follow my gut. I told him I booked an appointment for the following week and he told me he would call and cancel it for me, and assured me that she definitely wouldn’t be offended. I think I just felt extra shitty that I had these high expectations—that she would be the “perfect therapist.” Before I met her, I could just envision my life changing. This was it. She was going to help fix me. Then, boom, that scenario fades away into nothing and I’m back where I started.
Luckily, I have the most supportive parents who, though not rolling in money, refused to let me go without seeing someone to talk to because my health and happiness are two of the most important things. And then I feel bad because I’m 22 and I should be able to pay for my own therapy. And then I feel bad twice over because I have the most amazing parents and I have no reason to feel depressed in general, let alone upset that my stupid appointment with the therapist didn’t produce sunshine and rainbows. I ended up calling my mom once I got home and sat outside on the front steps (in a snow storm, mind you) for an hour crying to her in one of my I-started-crying-and-I-don’t-know-why-and-now-I-can’t-stop fits. I was, once again, so embarrassed. She wanted to help me so badly, but I knew I just had to let it out. She wouldn’t let me off the phone until I sounded a bit better and felt ready to go inside.
Since that outburst, I’ve actually felt a lot better. Maybe I really did let a lot out. Maybe it’s because spring is near and the sun has been out a lot more. Maybe it’s because I started listening to meditation music as I fall asleep. Maybe it’s because I’ve been making an effort to think more positively (though, that doesn’t always work for me. Sometimes those black holes just swallow me up without my consent). Who really knows why.
So now, the search is on for a good therapist who I feel comfortable with. Wish me luck.