Last year, I sought out therapy again. I felt like I was on the verge of melting down between my PTSD going off the rails for the first time in years, the subsequent depression and also dealing with a great deal of crap all at once. I’m not ashamed of being in therapy. I respect people who get therapy because I honestly feel like most people should at least once or twice in their lifetimes. It’s seeking out help to give you the tools to be happier, healthier – steadier.
At the time however, I wasn’t feeling it. I even thought about writing a blog called “Are We Clicking?” because the therapist I was paired with… I just didn’t feel comfortable. I haven’t done therapy in years, but I consider myself an old pro, and I was seeking this out. It wasn’t a case of stage fright or shyness or embarrassment, and it wasn’t because I was so low at that point. I just could not get comfortable, I wasn’t confident that this therapist was the right fit for me.
I felt really bad about it too. Because the therapist was super nice, and a good listener. In fact, when deciding to discontinue therapy with her, I couldn’t even come up with a good reason beyond: “We’re not a match”; “You’re really nice, but I’m just not comfortable opening up”. For a few months, I didn’t seek out anyone new. I should have, but didn’t. I think part of this was embarrassment because I had no idea what had happened with the last one. Her background was perfectly matched to mine. She was nice, open, safe… why couldn’t I make it work? There have been times when I discontinued therapy, either because I felt I met my goals or even something more practical like relocating, but with the exception of one other time, I’ve never just “not felt it” and wanted it to end before it really got started. Continue reading