I started therapy last month. It's something that's been a long time coming, really, and is definitely something that I need to deal with whatever it is that goes on in my head. There's a weird air around admitting that, though. I say I'm going to therapy and with some people, you can see the questions, see the sympathy starting to form in their eyes. It's just something I think should be spoken about maybe a little more honesty, so in the name of honesty, this post exists.
I have to start these things by admitting that I am awful at admitting when I have a problem. I cannot do it, will rarely allow myself to say it, and will put things off until the very last moment. The realisation there's no shame in admitting you're struggling, especially when things are getting worse, is something entirely new to me. My perfectionist mind rejects the idea that there could be anything remotely wrong with me (although the idea that struggling mentally means there's something wrong with you is an idea I vehemently reject) and so I'm often stuck in this 'I am fine but not really but I don't want to admit that to anyone' cycle. It's silly, and I'll be the first to admit that.
Here's the kicker-- I knew I had anxiety issues. I could've told anyone that without a therapist ever needing to confirm it. I've got one of the most irrational minds and yet I'm so self-aware of that that it's almost become rational at this point. Anxiety is something I just never doubted was a problem for me at all. It has never been a scary idea or something that I felt concerned about because, really, it shaped how I am academically. I never miss a deadline, I'll go over my work to find any tiny mistake and I will never skip on a chance to make sure I can get the best mark possible. I almost thrive off of it (but only in the academic sense), as weird as that may be. The point is, I've become so used to dealing with anxiety that it's not something I'd ever worry about admitting I struggle with.
The problem? Over the past few months, I've had multiple friends tell me I might be going through (and it pains me even to type this out) a depression-of-sorts. There's no shame in it, and I'd never hesitate to be there for someone else that was experiencing that but, myself? That's a different story. I'm so used to being the happy friend, the supporter of all, the one that everyone leans on. Suddenly I was thrust into this weird warped reality where I found it impossible to be there for anyone else because I could barely handle my own emotions, let alone anyone else's. I hated it. I hated admitting it, and part of me still does. I've spoken on this blog before about the power of vulnerability and honestly, that might be the only reason I'm alright with writing this and putting it out into the world.
It's scary when you start to come to terms with the fact that not everything's fine in your life (or in your head, if life is relatively decent). Starting therapy was something I've joked about for quite some time, and I never meant it because things never felt bad enough for me to need it. The inevitable happened. There was a drop-off-- probably during February/March-- where everything suddenly felt like too much. I'd been bottling things up and 'dealing with them' by myself for far too long. I crashed (and maybe burned) and found myself in a 5 pm uni lecture filling in an online form about my mental health. It was daunting, to say the very least. There were questions I didn't particularly want to answer but definitely needed to, and I spent the following few weeks worried about what was to come. An admin phone call later, I was scheduled for an assessment in a month's time. That month was maybe the most agonising month ever.
I've been doing CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) sessions for the past month or so. It's one of many sorts of treatments offered but so far it's working for me. There's a focus on breaking down problems into smaller more manageable chunks and understanding the root cause of them: it's not scary, it's never overwhelming and I'm sort of starting to understand how my mind works at times. I really could not recommend starting therapy more to anyone, because even if your problems only feel small they are still problems. Don't be afraid to reach out for help to a professional that can really begin the process of fixing things (friends can be useful, but there's only so much they can do). I've included some useful info at the bottom, just in case anyone needs it! -- Lucy <3
NHS Psychological Therapies Services: https://www.nhs.uk/service-search/mental-health/find-a-psychological-therapies-service