Thoughts on Mental Health Thursday
This question made me squint and furrow my eyebrows. This question makes no sense when you consider the obvious, we are who we are because of our experiences. I consider that to be well, obvious. What shapes us is our experience. As kids, our initial opinions and thoughts about certain things are influenced by our parents or who we are around the most. Simple example, but I grew up liking certain foods because that’s what my parents ate. It also meant there was a lot I didn’t like, because that’s what my parents didn’t like. My taste buds under went some serious rehabilitation when I met Josh.
As we get older and branch out on our own, we are influenced by everything. What we see on t.v., what we hear peoople say around us, all the things. Those are experiences. We become who we are by agreeing or disagreeing with what we see and hear.
I’m labeling this with my “Thoughts on Mental Health Thursday” tag because as you know, a lot of who I have become in the past two years is because of experiences I had at the place where I worked. Also, the experience I had growing up with the kind of parents I had.
Here’s another experience that I want to focus on today. Therapy. Almost two years ago, around the time I left my job at the Catholic school, I decided that I was going to start therapy and stick with it, once and for all. And I did. This year, my therapist and I have gradually been pushing our appointments further and further apart. It seems that I have done so much healing that our appointments are now less of me telling her about a situation or something that happened and needing her to help me deal with it and more of me telling her something that happened, what I did about it, and how it’s a non-issue. The past several appointments have been like that. She repeatedly reminds me of why I can do that now–as in, speak my mind, have “I don’t care about that” thoughts and really mean it, and generally, have less anxiety. She tells me it’s because I’ve put the work in and this is what healing looks like.
We had an appointment this past Monday. It had been a month and a half since our last one. I had to reschedule the previous one because work was expected to run late on that day. After telling her my thoughts on things that had been signficant since our last appointment, and after her sharing with me a list of signs that you’re healing and how I have shown or am currently showing all of the signs, I asked her what we do now. I’m hesitant to say I don’t need therapy. I asked her opinion on that. She said we can push the appointments out to every two months, and I can come in sooner if need be. After two months, I can let her know when I’m ready to terminate the appointments all together. But…quit therapy?! In my heart, I know I don’t need it anymore. As I explained to her and to Josh afterwards, any situation that comes up in the future that I might need her for, I can handle. She has given me the tools to deal with whatever comes up. I even have a situation that I anticipate coming up in which I may have to decide on attending a funeral that my mom might also attend. I have an aunt that’s not doing well. I already know what I’ll have to decide and I already know how I might handle it. My therapist told me… I’ve always known who I am, but now I know how to be her. I wrote those words down because they struck me. She’s right. I’m being who I am because I know how to do it now. I’m not afraid. I have healed from the experiences that made me hide who I was. I know I’ll never do that again.
So, I’ll keep my appointment in two months. It may be my last one. And who knows? Maybe in a year or two I’ll be writing her a letter like the one I plan to write Dr. Simpson. A letter to update her on how well I’m still doing and to simply say thank you. She has changed my life as much as Dr. Simpson did. I’ll never not be grateful.
Want to help me accomplish my dream of being a paid writer? Buy me a coffee!
Leave a Reply