Does this sound familiar? “In an Italian family we don’t go to therapy. We have sisters, cousins, or aunts for that, but we don’t go to therapy.” or “In our family, we don’t air our dirty laundry!” You may also have heard stories from people who have had a bad experience when they sought help. In these cases, I am so very sorry. Therapy should always be a safe place.
Someone very close to me had one such experience a long while back when the “doctor”, and I say this word with some trepidation, made a very unethical suggestion during a therapy session. Thankfully, she had the wherewithal to get up, leave that office and never return! Even more importantly, she sought the help of another therapist and he helped her make the changes she needed to Do Life. Another person whom I love dearly, needed to wade through numerous therapists before finding the right one. This is not easy and the urge to give up is strong. I ask of anyone in these scenarios - please don’t give up.
Like many of us, I have sought the help of a professional, twice, and with your permission, I’d like to share bits of my story with you.
The first time, I needed the help of a biofeedback specialist. At the time, there were two people who I loved dearly, pulling me in opposite directions - and not only my emotional, but my mental and physical health were at risk also. I took the advice of my GP of 30 years who gave me two choices: "you can omit these two people from your life - or you can get help". I chose the latter. The person I was referred to, a certified biofeedback therapist, taught me that with the right tools, I could manage situations that I thought were out of my control. I still use these tools today when I find myself in overwhelming situations. I truly believe they saved my life.
We all know when we are not operating at 100%, but sometimes we can’t put our finger on the causes. So many years later I sought help again.
I realized one day that I couldn’t remember the last time I cried, and that it had been a very long while since I truly laughed. I was living in “the middle”, no highs, no lows, and therefore, no need for laughter or tears. This time my search led me to a compassionate, skilled psychologist, a woman with as many decades on this earth as me. She helped me get to the core of my problem – and although it would take up too many pages to explain it here – I will summarize what I learned: I learned that for a while, several years to be honest, I had been making small changes to myself. I went from the girl who spoke her mind and never held back - to a woman who cared more about everyone else’s opinion than her own. The beliefs and sensitivities of others became more important than my own. I was walking on eggshells, I was mentally editing what I wanted to say before the words came out of my mouth, so much so that what I said no longer resembled what I had originally intended to say. This change was harmful - for me, and it took a good therapist to help me see that.
I’d love to say that I have it all figured now, but I don’t. I am a work in progress. I am better today than yesterday. I plan to be better tomorrow than today!