Going To Therapy: Step II


I just had my first therapy session this morning. I'm sat in uni now as I type this. It's been a while since I took the big step to seek help in October and now I finally had my first session for evaluation. I am very thankful for my best friend for pushing me to do this. This was a good idea. Possibly the best idea that ever came across me in my life.

It was a funny, nervous feeling when I was sat in the waiting room and the moment the door opened and I was welcomed in, I felt as if I was taking a step to feeling better. I have hope. I have hope everything will be resolved more or less and it might take some time but I'm not alone and my therapist and I, we will work through my concerns and thoughts.

I feel positive for once. For the first time in a long while, I walk the streets feeling relieved. I have hope. I can taste it in the air even though I can't fully grasp it yet. As I explained my circumstances to my therapist, I realized how long I've been feeling this way already. Half a year. I didn't know when it started to happen since my surroundings would tell me, I wouldn't have thought about having something going on with me if they wouldn't have pointed it out.

Haven't you slept well? Something wrong? Everything o.k.? You can talk to me about it if you want to. I'm here to listen. Something bothering you?

What has been my answer all along? Something vague like "Um, no, everything is alright? I think? I don't know."

"But how come you look so sad? And tired? Lifeless even."

"Sorry, didn't notice. Must be just tired."

I wasn't even covering anything up. I really honestly didn't know. And I still don't. Thing is, I cried. I sat there with a cup of tea that was offered to me and my therapist that I hadn't known for any more than 10 minutes had struck a nerve while asking me basic questions to get to know me. At one point I broke and she realized that there was a point that triggered me immediately. I didn't even have to say anything and I didn't get to explain because I burst out crying. That was my first session, everyone. You sit there and suddenly feel overwhelmed and you cry because you realize there is a problem that makes you feel this way.

Some of you asked me what I "have". Which is a validated question because if I talk about my wellbeing and therapy freely on my blog, I have to expect to receive this question. I'm not sure what it is yet. It could be a mixture of depression and derealisation but that is only a self-diagnosis that nobody should ever do. Don't diagnose yourself. So I'm waiting for my therapist to know me better because oh goodness me, I have no clue what's going on in my head, honestly. It could be something completely different. All I know is that it keeps dragging me down, even in moments when I could be so so so happy out of my mind.

I was a mess. Truly. But I felt relieved. So relieved. After that I walked to the bus station with my mind floating but feeling a little bit more liberated. I had let go of something. And it felt strangely different from when I opened up to my best friend. So so different.
But this was a good idea. I actually look forward to the next sessions. And it relieves me to know that I can ask my therapist everything and anything. And I'm allowed to say everything without feeling like I'm badmouthing anyone.

At the end of the day I'll be feeling better. I'll understand myself better. Heck, I needed to take this step. I'm glad I did. 

Post a Comment

My Journey In Pictures

© Missing Wanderer. All rights reserved. Design by Fearne.