Minding what matters
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Last year my life felt like it was unraveling. It was full of wonderful, but intense changes. In fact it wasn't the year per say, but my perception of it that made me feel overwhelmed.
I finally knuckled down and agreed to see a doctor, thanks to one of my friends and my loving husband.
My doctor put me on Welbutrin. At first it sapped all my energy away. Again, it took me awhile to admit that it wasn't helping. It's like I felt that I somehow deserved to feel exhausted and sad.
Anyway, he adjusted the dose and things got a bit better. In the back of my mind I knew that I wanted to A: see a therapist to see if they could help.
When I found mine it was an answer to prayers. I didn't know how to find one. Asking for recommendations seemed odd since none of my family members had a therapist. One of my friends has a therapist, but hers wasn't covered by my insurance. It wasn't something I was comfortable talking about with aquatences either.
When I found my therapist it was through a few seemingly random events and the recommendation of a therapist who wasn't taking patients. The instant I went in I knew it was the perfect fit. Everything about the office and staff felt right.
I've been seeing my therapist for four months now. Since then I've learned meditation techniques, about the work and other ways to feel more centered. I've also had a few personal epiphanies.
Is it all because of the therapist? Do I think everyone should go to therapy? No, we're all individuals. My reactions have been the combination of therapy, meds and working toward being mentally and physically healthier.
However, it's been a 180 for me. Several months ago, I was constantly contemplating taking my life. I can't explain why. It's hard to put the desperately painful and mentally confusing thoughts into words. Logically I knew I wanted to live, but logic goes out of the window when that deeper emotional thought process takes over.
Asking for help was enormously hard for me. I was raised with the notion that medications and therapy were both taking the 'easy' or 'weak' way. Now I realize that it couldn't be further from the truth. I have a chemical imbalance. Taking care of it doesn't make me weak, it makes me responsible.
I'm so grateful for the love and support of friends and family on this journey. There's still a lot I need to learn, but thankfully I have those resources. I'm incredibly blessed. For me, these things have literally saved my life. It's a beautiful world and I'm glad that I can appreciate and experience the ups and downs.