Therapy Schmerapy
Psychotherapy. If that word were ever uttered at my family’s dinner table the only thing that would follow would be the sound of crickets. You see, self-awareness and introspection were not family values taught in my house. What was taught was to meet expectations and stay out of trouble. Don’t ask hard questions; actually, don’t question at all. It’s no wonder that I grew up to be a “pleaser”—basing all of my decisions on my perception of the expectations of others.
Frankly, it is the easiest, least satisfying way to go through life. It doesn’t require a lot of thinking, but you are never true to yourself. The insidious thing is that you trick yourself into thinking you are happy and in control. What I finally learned is that it is impossible to be either happy or in control the way I was raised.
It was a girlfriend who uttered the word at the dinner table, not with my family but during a romantic dinner at a fine restaurant that I had wanted to try for a long time. She didn’t exactly say “psychotherapy,” but she did say “you should see a therapist.” Apparently, my inner unhappiness in the face of every reason to be happy became more than she could bear. I told her, in no uncertain terms, that she was off her rocker. I was perfectly fine and did not need to pay someone to analyze me and tell me how I should be living my life. Thank you very much.
Some months later, as we were breaking up, she very sweetly told me that she could no longer be with someone who was unhappy and disconnected. “Wait, what?” I wasn’t unhappy. I was unhappy with the breakup. It, coupled with her observations, rattled me out of autopilot. It got me thinking and, ultimately, making the phone call I swore I would never make. I wasn’t a miserable person, but I wasn’t in touch with myself or the people around me. My life had become mechanical—dictated by “should” and “shouldn’t.”
My notions of psychotherapy, not surprisingly, were way off base. After starting, I kinda wished I could just pay money and get the answers. Therapy is hard work, but my counselor helped me develop the skills necessary to finally get into my own psyche and understand who I am, what I want and what makes me happy. These are not things that someone else can tell you. Rather, it is an exciting journey of discovery for which I am thankful to have a skilled guide.
Author: A.H., Client, Washington, D.C.
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