I started therapy 12 weeks ago and my therapist/psychologist (I personally can’t decide which term to use since officially, he’s a psychologist but he’s the one helping me through therapy which makes him my therapist) has been helping me chip away at the tall, cold, stone walls I’ve built around myself to keep others and even my own emotions out. It’s so much easier to keep everyone out.
However, the road to recovery means exploring feelings that I’ve long since buried and finding out what exactly makes me upset and anxious. So with each session, my therapist is chipping away at more and more of my defense walls and this drawing portrays that.
I was a skeptic before I began. I thought it was silly that just sitting down with someone and talking for an hour a week will help someone’s deep rooted emotional problems. I thought it was absolutely ridiculous but I kept an open mind as I went for my first session. I was apprehensive – who wouldn’t be? I mean, I was about to open up to a complete stranger and I’m supposed to trust this person with my deepest and darkest secrets? I wanted to pass.
When my therapist had called me up about 2 weeks after my diagnosis, I saw that it was “Counselling and Psychological Services” on the Caller ID and I had half a mind not to answer. In fact, I don’t think I did. I think his message went to voicemail (Voicemail is a Godsend for people like me who are utterly terrified to answer phone calls by the way). I finally listened to the voicemail and decided to suck it up and called him back. When I did, he asked me if I had any time the next day. My social anxiety immediately kicked in and I felt like it was too soon for me to see him – I mean, I needed time to prepare myself mentally!! However, for some odd reason that I can’t explain, I agreed to see him the very next day (a Wednesday) at 10am.
My first session was the most interesting experience because not only did I feel immediately comfortable with the therapist but also I felt that he was genuinely trying to help me. He listened through my hour of rambling (I tend to go off on tangents, as can be seen in this post alone with all the stuff I’m writing in parentheses) and I suddenly was looking forward to my next session. I finally found someone who would listen without judgement for a whole hour. It felt great!
Since then, I’m finding myself able to express myself more and if not communicate better, at least learn to do so. I am also learning more and more about myself and about why I put up all those walls in the first place. It’s been 12 weeks now and there have been good weeks and there have been bad weeks but through it all, my therapist is there with me on my journey to recovery. And with his help, I am optimistic that I will survive all the beat-downs that life is throwing at me.
For those who are in a similar situation, who are struggling with their thoughts and emotions and who are finding life just too much to handle, I’d encourage you to seek out professional help if possible. If not, just finding someone you trust who can listen without judgment can help tremendously!