Honestly, to some extent, my first therapy session felt like a waste of time, at least on the surface. I arrived at 8:30 for a 9 am appointment, and due to some kind of computer issue/the office in general just being backed up, I didn’t meet my therapist, Miss Mary, until after 10. Once I was in her office, I started to feel better about my appointment, because in the waiting room I was thinking “why did I let Dallas talk me into this?”
We met for about an hour and came up with some things:
- She suggested (and I can understand why) that it would be a good idea for me to work with her to develop a “crisis safety plan”, and for that, we brought Dallas into the session. I hadn’t been open about it with anyone, not even him, that I do struggle with feelings so intensely low that I’ve considered making self-destructive decisions in the recent past. I have some suggestions to follow when everything starts piling on and making me feel buried, as well as some phone numbers to call if I feel like professional intervention might be necessary.
- I broke down crying talking about how stressful my job is. It shouldn’t be stressful–it’s retail, for heaven’s sake–but I’m something of a perfectionist, and it doesn’t matter where I’m working, I put everything I have into my job. Obviously that’s something I need to put to the side the best I can. Based on some of the things that have happened at work this week, I can say that I know it’s not going to get better.
- After Dallas came into the session, my therapist asked him outright if it would overwhelm him for me to open up to him when I’m in a bad place emotionally, which has been why I haven’t talked to him about what’s going on. Instead, I tend to get irritable and withdraw from him. He said that if my issues start to affect his mental health, he’ll get additional help from both of us, but in the meantime, he is more than ready to be my rock, and I don’t need to worry that I’m going to trigger a mood cycle because I’m a little sad.
- Despite the fact that it doesn’t feel like my antidepressant is doing…well…anything at all for me, I’m going to still keep taking it at least until I can see the psychiatrist in early February. Dallas tried once to go off his because he didn’t think it was making a difference, and it was a bad idea. Just because it doesn’t feel like it’s doing anything doesn’t mean it isn’t. It just might not be the most effective thing.
…so, even though it seemed useless at the time, I got a lot out of therapy yesterday. It’s a shame that I won’t be able to get back in to the office for almost 2 months, but between the holiday schedule at work, us traveling for Dallas’ dissertation defense, and their schedule, that’s just how it worked out. At least it’s a start.