Can’t I just hug it out instead?
So remember that one time I said I was depressed? Crap. Me too.
And the thing is, I made that stupid appointment. And then put it out of my mind. Because dudes, therapy is not my favorite thing. In fact, on the list of things I like, it’s well, NOT ON THERE. And I looked at my calendar yesterday and hey guess what? That appointment is tomorrow.
It feels a little ironic that I am this unsettled by the idea of therapy. Isn’t that the opposite of what therapy is for?
What do I say? Hi, I’m Katie, I’ve had a headache since August. I haven’t killed anyone or myself yet (a fact for which I’m sort of surprised that no one has given me a trophy yet). I am also occasionally weepy, you would be too if you’d had a headache for FIVE MONTHS.
I am struggling with understanding how this is going to help. This therapist isn’t going to be able to stop this pain. This therapist isn’t going to make it disrupt my life less. Contrary to the whine-fest that is this blog, I don’t actually like to talk about my pain much. It makes me feel whiny, which again, ironically I’m not a fan of. I feel weak when I tell people how much the pain affects me. I feel small and silly.
I am the master of minimizing my problems, and I know that I will do this with a therapist. If you know me in person, you’ve probably seen this. I shrug things off when in front of people. I pretend like they aren’t as bad as they are because it’s not pleasant to talk about how fucking horrible things really are. And the idea of spending an hour tomorrow talking about just that, is just entirely unappealing.
I know that there are like 30,000 reasons why therapy is a good idea, but all of them escape me now. Instead I can think of about a bajillion reasons why it’s not, mainly that I don’t want to, I don’t like it and I don’t want to.
In the end I’ll go, I’ll answer questions and talk. I will sweat profusely and stutter. I do not promise success, or even a second appointment.
But I will go, I will give it a real try and I will keep a (mostly) open mind. At this point, I can’t afford to close doors to healing. Even when they’re the ones I don’t want to walk through in the first place.
9 Responses to “Can’t I just hug it out instead?”
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Welcome! I'm Katie, a 27 year old, full-time graduate student who just happened to have brain surgery in November of 2007 to give my ginormous brain a little more space. This blog chronicles my daily life, from relentless headaches to falling over in public to being a doctor's wife. Sit down, get comfortable and stay for a while.
Who says that all you’re going to talk about is the headache since August? There is so much more to you than that. Look for helpful nuggets of insight about the other parts of your life, like your marriage, or your shitty family. Think of this session as “pain management” for your mental health. That may be bad advice. The therapist will not be able to stop this pain, but he or she will be able to help you cope with it, in ways that I hope you’ll find refreshingly amazing.
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sometimes is just nice to talk…to someone, anyone who will sit and listen without judgment or criticism…works for me anyway. Good luck.
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I’d say print out this blog entry and take it with you. A therapist should be able to address all these concerns.
In any case, I hope that you are able to get a lot out of it! Maybe at the very least s/he will have some coping ideas… or stress relief strategies… or meditation techniques that you will find to be useful. Good luck!
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You wouldn’t think at first it’s worth paying for, but it’s nice to hear an objective opinion. Someone who doesn’t want to be your friend or your enemy.
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A really good therapist will validate your feelings and show you some ways to cope, some ways to change and grow, and maybe will help you truly see yourself the way most of us see you…capable, smart, pretty, strong, witty, warm.
I went to a therapist who told me I wasn’t my mother. I thank him every day of my life (in my heart). Nicest thing anyone ever said to me.
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I felt the same way when I started seeing the psychologist in March. It took me six months to even admit that I might need that help, and that was only after I broke down in front of my kid. It has helped, like Joanne said, just to have someone impartial and non-judgmental to talk to. I hope you get that same feeling from it. Good luck.
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I understand what you mean. I thought the same.
But actually, a therapist doesn’t only listen to your words. I’m sure he or she will see (in mimics or whatever) the pain you’re in. You’re not considered a “weak” woman just because you tell people about your pain. And I agree, you deserve a damn medal for your strenght! I honestly admire you.
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I hope it went well, and you were able to get something unexpected out of it. I think talking through things can often be so cathartic that you just feel better having voiced things.
It may not fix your headache, but it certainly might help in other ways.
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Hi. Found your blog through this weeks carnival on funny stories. It seems I have some catching up to do with your writing.
But I wanted to say thank you. You write well and with humor as you struggle with what sound like similar issues to some of mine. I hate the guinea pig feeling I get when no-one can figure out the cause (in my case it’s Transient Global Amnesia on top of fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, hashimotos thyroid, systemic candidia, and… all developed or diagnosed in the last 10 years).
I find myself wishing I’d liked pre-med or bio-chem/chem-e enough to not change my major after three years of undergrad sometimes, just so I could figure out WTF the Doctors are saying. But then I remember that I hated that stuff, so instead I try to reach out to people who are/have been through similar situations and need help, and do my best to re-wire my brain for a short time each day to comprehend the science behind all this stuff.
Since I’m just now reading January, I’ll hope that you’ve gotten some answers and if not a cure at least some relief.
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