I wrote an article tonight for the examiner regarding the benefits of therapy. If I had my way, everyone would have a few sessions. I remember blundering through my 20’s, engaging in behavior that was self-sabotaging and did nothing but bring me misery. I can’t count the number of times I would ask myself, “Why do I do this??” I had the awareness to know that something was terribly wrong, but didn’t yet have the tools I needed to recognize how to change those.
I grew up in a secretive family. You didn’t discuss your problems, you didn’t ask for help. You plastered a smile on your face and pretended everything was terrific, even if your world was falling apart around you. I would experience crying jags that would last hours. I could never predict what would set them off or even articulate what was wrong, I just knew that I was terribly unhappy and felt alone, isolated.
My entire life, I have craved close, emotional relationships with other women. I wanted so desperately to have a friend who knew all my secrets, and loved me anyway. I wanted someone whom I could trust completely, and who trusted me. But while I desired these relationships, I also feared them and kept women with whom I could have had this type of relationship at arm’s length. That kind of trust and closeness was scary. I couldn’t truly believe that if someone know me, the real me, they’d stick around. So, I largely surrounded myself with narcissists who required nothing from me but attention. It’s easy to be the friend of a narcissist. All you have to do is keep your mouth shut. No worries about them knowing the real me, they weren’t interested in anyone but themselves.
As the years progressed, I found my periods of depression becoming less intermittent and more pervasive. It eventually blossomed into a full blown, deep depressive disorder. My faith in God and my fear of Hell are the only things that kept me from taking my life.
God knows our every need. He put me on a path that I would have never contemplated, where I ended up making one of the best friends I have ever had. She knew all my secrets, and loves me still. She could see when I was about to crash and burn, and treated me gently, with love and compassion. She calmly suggested a great therapist to me over and over again, even though I declined so many times. Finally, I realized that normal people don’t go to bed hoping to not wake up the next morning. I called the therapist and have been in counseling ever since.
My life has improved a million fold. I will forever be grateful to Melanie for her friendship, her love, her care, and her concern. She is the angel God sent to me in my time of need.
If you didn’t know it before reading this post, I am pretty open about being in therapy. I don’t feel it’s anything to be ashamed of, nor is it anything to hide. If I can help one person, just one person, the way Melanie helped me, then it will have all been worth it.
My family still keeps secrets. I think it embarrasses some of them that I am so outspoken about being in therapy. I’m sorry they feel that way. Therapy is a tool, nothing more and nothing less. Secrets are poison and I’m no longer interested in keeping them. My life is an open book. Maybe that’s why my name is Paige. J
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