first off, this post is fueled by at almond milk latte from hummingbird, where they have the worlds strongest coffee (and where I work from frequently so you can often cash me outside there). currently I want to 1) flip this table over 2) take my top off 3) learn 6 new skills 4) die. in the best way possible.
but let’s talk about therapy. do you go to a therapist? I’m not going to tell you what to do (just suggest what to buy from nordstrom), but I can share with you my experience of why therapy is a 100% emoji all the time.
I have several friends who have tried therapy in times of crisis, but no longer go – claiming they’re ‘good now’. I dabbled in ‘as-needed’ therapy too about 6-7 years ago, until I found myself living in total chaos and utter ickiness, so far down that I needed a lifeline necklace just to let someone know that I was stuck.
and that lifeline was my therapist. I see her weekly now (bi-weekly when I’m traveling) and it’s a priority. more than the dentist. more than waxing my areas. more than working out and more than getting my car’s oil changed (I fail at so many levels of adulting).
unless you are truly #blessed with a trove of family, friends, mentors and co-workers who can selflessly listen to your bullshit and advise you from true life experiences, how on earth do we think we can get any fresh perspective on the cyclone in our head that’s been brewing for 30+ years, without talking to someone else about it?
I wager we can’t. you gotta talk it through and get help sorting out what’s factual and what’s fiction. what stories are you telling yourself, and how can you shift your perceptive to realize your stories aren’t necessarily right. you aren’t right. and that it’s ok to not be right!
recently, the locust storm of anxiety, fear and worry (what a combo!) has swarmed all up in my life and my struggle with it is starting to permeate all the bits I was so sure I had in check (relationship! work! friends! self-care!). I told tad this morning that my three ring circus has expanded to approx. 14 rings the daggum dish is currently running away with the spoon in ring 2 and the elephant just gave up.
my therapist dropped a real power nugget on my yesterday – that’s already started to help. she said worry should be like an alarm on your phone. it goes off to remind you to do something. it’s a notification. something feels off, a thing needs attending to, a behavior might need to be modified, or a lesson needs to be noted. and that’s it’s.
THAT’S IT!?! I don’t have to feel nauseous, and take it all the way there with worry if you’re going to break up with me, take all my money, tell everyone I’m a sham, unfriend me, unfollow me (fine, who cares), and worse yet, make me dislike myself more?
apparently all this extra-ness isn’t necessary. or helpful. so I’m practicing stopping it. ok I feel anxious. why. what can I do right now. how can I do it differently next time. noted. back to petting the dog and looking at pinterest!
that’s a better life, wouldn’t you agree?
image above from artist Amy Bramante
Hard yes. I started therapy (and anti-anxiety meds) 9 months ago when my mom was dying of cancer and I wish I’d done it twenty years earlier. It is AMAZING that there is a whole other non-anxious way of being and I love that I’ve discovered it.
Amen.