Several years ago, after losing my husband, someone suggested I try therapy. I had the same stigma towards therapy that many people have. You go to a therapist if you are crazy or you can’t handle your life. I’ve always been one that could handle stuff. I’m not crazy, why go?
I can’t remember what finally drove me to signing up for sessions, but I found myself sitting across from a lovely lady that let me verbally vomit all over her for an hour. $29.99 and that’s not all! She didn’t ask any questions, make any judgements, or tell me I was crazy, stupid, or wrong. I had been missing out for years!
I attended somewhat regular sessions for a year or so and then fell off the wagon. I think it was due to not wanting to be accountable to anyone, even myself, for the choices I was making. I wasn’t doing anything ‘wrong’, but I preferred to be private. I went back after six months or so, only to discover my therapist didn’t want to see me anymore. And I quote, ” you are the most well-adjusted person I know and I feel guilty taking your money.” Yes, she was breaking up with me.
I wasn’t sure how to take the rejection. Was I really doing that well? Or was she simply sick of hearing about my boring life? Regardless, I stopped going. Who am I to throw money at people that can’t or won’t help me? Oh, wait,…I’m a mom….forget that question.
My daughter recently starting seeing a therapist. She has been raving (bragging) about how awesome this one is and urging me to go. The problem is 1. I have no extra time. 2. I don’t want to pay for something that doesn’t help. 3. I have no extra time. 4. I can’t remember what number 4 was. I went ahead and emailed him. Because of strong connections, which I can’t disclose due to patient doctor rights (is there such a thing?), I was able to get into said therapist quickly.
The first things I noticed about his office were the smell of a campfire and the coffee in his hand. He’s one of those guys that never stops looking you in the eye. He thinks I’m crazy.
We chatted for a bit and I ended up telling him what my last therapist said about me being well adjusted. He literally laughed out loud. Again…not sure how to take that.
The session went well. I think. I mean, how does one judge? He laughed, I cried, I didn’t knock his stupid little waterfall/fountain thing on the floor, I didn’t get a sucker OR sticker when I was done. I didn’t have a rubric so I’m not sure I did it right, but I’m hopeful.
He didn’t give me any homework or assignments, so I guess all I have to do now is keep being NOT well adjusted and come back in a month.
In spite of the ambiguous-ness of the whole thing, I feel something in my mind has shifted. He does things a bit different in that he talks to the soul and bypasses the person. If that doesn’t make sense, don’t feel bad. You are probably only half as crazy as me. I feel that since I went, I partially cracked open the door to my soul and she (it?) is stretching a tentative toe out into my mind where she will surely start organizing and wreaking havoc of some sort or another. I’m excited and terrified at the same time.
But, if you know me at all, I’ve got this. Totally under control. Or, is it….under the rug? I forget.
Cause I said so.