Therapy Newbie: My First Session

Well, I did it. I had my first therapy session.

I was terrified, both about opening up to someone I don’t know and about figuring out how to pay for it. My insurance doesn’t cover all of the cost and we don’t have extra money. But I went anyway.

I drove my car in an unknown area to a place I had not been before and I got lost. It was 45 minutes away, but it was important to me that my therapist was a woman and that it wouldn’t be likely that I would ever need to interact with her outside of therapy. At one point my phone said I had arrived at the office, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. So since I was downtown, I parked and got out to walk around. This is what scared me most all night. I was terrified of someone trying to hurt me as I walked around with no clue where my destination was. I ended up calling my therapist and I was going to cancel since I was already scared out of my wits, but she told me how to find the office and she told me she would stand outside and look for me (which was super nice seeing as it was like 4 degrees outside). I ended up making it to therapy and I am pretty proud that I got there at all.

I chose a woman as my therapist and she was actually really calming and understanding. My first visit was basically taking stock of who I am. She asked all about my background (who my parents are, are they married or divorced, am I married, etc.) and she did get specific about some areas of my past. I found that going over that stuff was helpful for me as well because there are areas of my past that were cloudy or confusing because I had never taken the time to think about them. I could also see areas where some of the events of my past are affecting me today, but I didn’t see them until I sat down to tell a stranger all about myself.

We did go over the reason I sought help in the first place and we talked a bit about that. She said that she would like to see me every other week, but I can’t afford that so we will try to do it every month. I hope that I can figure out a way to see her every other week though.

I am really happy that I finally started therapy and it is showing in my life. I am having more good days and I am more productive. my post (65)Just getting that stuff out to someone without having to worry about hurting them was an amazing feeling. I don’t really have friends that I can just talk to about all the super personal things in my life so my husband is my only sounding board. He is my best friend and I love him and being with him, but it’s difficult to discuss things with him without being a jerk. You know? Like just because I have a feeling, doesn’t mean it actually means anything but I need someone to hear it and understand it. He would hear it and take it personally and then try to solve the problem because he always wants me to have the best. He really is a fantastic husband.

He has a hard time understanding that just because I tell him about my issues doesn’t mean I want him to fix them. I just want someone to stay on solid ground so I can sink down in the sand as I tell him about my troubles. Then when I’m done, he can pull me back up with him and we can move on with our lives. If I talk to someone who is also on sinking sand, we both end up sinking and then we are stuck in this sadness/anger for a long time until we can eventually climb out ourselves.

That’s what it felt like to talk to a therapist. I got real and blunt, but she is impartial so she was on solid ground. After crying my eyes out, we ended the session and I was able to easily stop and get back to the business of getting home. Therapy worked because there was a limit to our time, so issues couldn’t be dragged out all night like they can at home, and she wasn’t upset with me or sad about what I said so I didn’t feel guilty. I knew I could tell her anything because I didn’t have to worry about it getting out to anyone. So I let it all out, had no guilt about it, and I moved on.

I know that its hard to get yourself into therapy, especially if you don’t have money. I have spent years telling myself that I wanted to do this but it took some serious issues to get my butt into gear and get the ball rolling. There will probably come a time when she won’t be able to see me anymore because I can’t pay, but I’ll take the therapy I can get and cross that bridge when I come to it. I can say that therapy is a good idea for anyone because everyone needs that impartial person to vent to. If you have been wanting to do it, do what you can to get there. You deserve it and you will benefit greatly. I wish I had done it earlier. Honestly, I wish I had started therapy in college (a.k.a. 11ish years ago). If you can do it now, do it now, even if you think you don’t need it. It will help so much.

Have you been in therapy before? Any long time therapy experts out there? What has therapy done for you? What do you love most about going to therapy? Or maybe you hate it? Tell me why in the comments!

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How Much Do You Think It Would Cost to Hire a Body Double to Live My Life For a While?

The last day and a half have been the worst. I haven’t been diagnosed with anxiety but I have been diagnosed with depression. When my routine or world changes, it makes me continuously worried, as if you’re waiting to get test results back from the doctor.

So all week I have been looking at the end of the week when my family has a bunch of appointments that have coincidentally fallen in these two days. There’s nothing wrong with the schedule. I have plenty of time to get everyone where they need to be, but instead of my normal safe routine at home, I’ve been out for two days. Driving my husband to work, driving my daughter to school, going into the school to set up our family for car pickup so they will release her to me instead of putting her on the bus.

I’ve been dealing with crazy parents who show up to pick up their kids more than an hour before school dismisses, otherwise, you’ll be lined up down the street because apparently everyone picks up their kid. I took my boys to a doctor appointment that’s a half hour away from my house and my youngest had to get four shots and my oldest got the flu shot. Needless to say, that examination room was a mess.

My son’s speech therapist had to change the day she comes to work with him and so for the first time, she was supposed to come today. I couldn’t get the place cleaned up in time and so I canceled on her. I just couldn’t do it anymore.

Oh and I forgot to mention that my son’s therapy coordinator showed up to re-evaluate his needs and I didn’t even remember I had an appointment with her until she knocked on my door. I answered the door to my hurricane of a house that’s been dealing with lice all week and I was barely holding back the tears. I begged her to reschedule and she took one look at me and said, “Yeah, I can tell you’re not feeling well. Can we set a date now?” So now it has officially been confirmed, I look like crap. I apologized profusely as she left and I texted my husband and my best friend telling them how mortified I was. Of course, they told me I was still a good mom, but I know they’re lying because the coordinator already told me. I’m a mess.

So I sat on my couch with my toddler in his pack ‘n play, my preschooler on his Kindle, and my daughter at school and husband at work, thankfully reducing the number of people witnessing this meltdown.

This morning my son woke everyone up at 3:11am and I am dead. I packed up the van and drove everyone where they needed to be while I was on autopilot. I have been in the car for hours these last two days. Seriously!

  • The time it takes to get to hubby’s work (one way): 25mins
  • The time it takes to get to school from hubby’s work: 30mins
  • The time it takes to get to the doctor’s office (one way): 30 mins
  • The time it takes to get to a family event tonight: 30mins

So today alone I have been in the car for three hours and 55 minutes altogether. I hope you guys put lots of lilies on my casket because I’m dead now.

When we returned home from the doctor appointment this morning, I made sure the kids had food, somehow found my last bit of energy to put in a load of dishes and a load of clothes and clean half of the living room before I shut down. We all took a nap and didn’t wake up until my daughter walked in off the bus three hours later.

I had the kids help finish cleaning the living room, we picked up my husband from work, came back home, had an hour for dinner and now we’re on our way to a family party that I don’t even want to go to but in order to keep the peace, I have to pretend I care. I know I shouldn’t have to do that, but either I deal with the effort of shoving it under the rug or the effort of dealing with maybe the most dramatic member of my family.

In my happy place, everyone is gone. They’ve taken a vacation and left me at home alone. I don’t have to drive, cook, change diapers, deal with family or any other human beings. I never clean anything up and I don’t feel guilty about it because no one else has to live in it but me. I have lots of money to order pizza and Dr. Pepper for every meal and I sit on the couch watching whatever I want the whole time. I even sleep on the couch. And I sleep. And sleep. And sleep.

 

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