This week, I finally made an appointment to see a therapist. It has only taken 30 years, 10 of which my sister has been strongly urging me to go, proclaiming the wonders that therapy has done for her.
I found a lot of excuses, most of them true: I didn’t have the money (sometimes true), I didn’t have the time (often true), I was coping well enough on my own (uncertain).
My mom and sister kept at it, but instead, I opted to talk to my PCP about medication, and do online meditation apps. Those things did help for a while. During quarantine, my mental health has taken a significant dive, however.
I have forced myself to interact with even my close friends, and have lately been in and out of a dissociative state, causing the world around me to brim with fog and time to ooze like molasses. This past week, my friend with BPD and I compared dissociative symptoms. When he mentioned how scary mine would be to him, I looked at myself for the first time like I was looking at a friend. What would I say to my friend, someone I loved who was experiencing these scary, almost-out-of-body symptoms? With love, seek help. For yourself, seek help. Because you should not have to feel like this, seek help.
I’m still nervous about therapy. I hate video calls, and all that stuff, but I’m going to give it 100%. I want to commit. Let’s all commit to what will help us improve our mental health. Don’t we deserve it?
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