A Therapist Comes Out

ComingOutNo, I’m not coming out as gay. I already did that some 20 years ago. And yes, I realize Pride was last month. But still I’ve decided to come out of another deeply personal closet. This one might actually be a bit harder than when I thought I was going to shock my parents about sexuality … though they were not the least bit shocked and if anything were a bit underwhelmed by the revelation. I am coming out of the therapy closet. I am a therapist who sees a therapist for my own mental health and well-being.

DepressionIt would seem like a therapist should have no trouble admitting that he sometimes needs help just like anybody else. In my mind, I can easily accept that at some point in their lives nearly two-thirds of American’s will qualify for a mental health diagnosis like anxiety or depression or ADHD. I encourage people to live genuine and open lives where shame and pretense are cast aside. And now it’s time for me to do the same.

Years ago I was diagnosed with a depressive disorder. Like many people, I tried medication with limited success. I wasn’t ready to work on the “real” issues and thought taking a magic pill would solve all my problems. It did help to an extent, but since I avoided dealing with the root causes of my depression it was bound to relapse. And it did. Several times in my adult life. Recently I started a course of psychotherapy to unpack the longstanding issues that fuel my depressive states. I want to better understand myself and the things that have happened in my life so I can make lasting changes. I want to cast off the chains of depression and emotional oppression so I can be the happiest and healthiest version of me. I deserve that.

Depressed WomanMy fear in coming out as a working professional with a depressive condition is that clients would think I was unfit to do my job. After all, who in their right mind would go to a depressed therapist? Well to be clear, I have periods of depression that are cyclical in nature. They are not so debilitating that they prevent me from attending to my daily needs, going to work and doing a good job, socializing with my friends, and enjoying many aspects of my life. Does that sound at all familiar? A “mild” depression where you are living life, just not your best life?

I was fascinated with the notion that mental health professionals are supposed to be these perfect creatures living blessed lives of flawless grandeur. And when my clients ask, sometimes jokingly and sometimes not, how therapists get through their day without having somebody to talk to, I would give a standard answer about “being trained to compartmentalize and maintain boundaries.” That is a true answer. We are well trained to compartmentalize the things we hear and to maintain a professional distance to avoid a vicarious traumatic reaction to the struggles and stresses of our clients’ lives. But come on! We’re still people! We have feelings too!

So here I am, coming out of the therapeutic closet and seeing the world from the eyes of my clients. When I attended my first session with a counselor who specializes in treating mental health professionals, I was quickly assured that I am not alone or some anomaly. In fact, he said something that gave me pause for several minutes: “the best therapists have their own therapists, and it makes them better at their jobs.” I’m pretty sure I’ve said things that caught my clients off guard and helped them see themselves and their struggle in a different light. Or at least I hope so. With that one sentence I knew I was doing the right thing.

Why come out of this closet at all? Why take the risk of alienating current or potential clients by admitting that I also seek help? Because mental illness in America has been far too stigmatized for far too long. How can I in good conscience encourage people to accept mental illness as a variation of the human experience and be ashamed of my own struggles? I care not for hypocrisy, so it seems to me that if I want to encourage a shift in how we view those seeking help I need to change the way I view my own need for help.

Therapy 5What have I learned so far? Nothing groundbreaking. Nothing that I didn’t already know from my own professional training. And yet I’m learning more about me than I could imaging because I wasn’t open to the possibility before. I’m solidifying goals for my life. I’m unpacking a lot of hurts that impact my self-esteem. I’m learning to better care for myself and reach out when I need support. I’m discovering just how passionately I care about some issues and how I can help make my world and the world around me a better place. I’m learning to see the best in myself so I can be the best version of myself. All the same things I do with my clients, I’m ENJOYING for myself.

And I feel great! I’m no longer scared to say that I have a therapist. He helps me care for myself and better myself. I am living a healthier and happier life, and working towards being the best me that I can be. And I know that I am a better therapist for it. Not just because I have a better understanding of what it’s like to be “on the couch.” But because I have a better understanding of the change that happens when you take care of you.

LifeIsGood

The First Session.

How to begin.

Therapy 1The questions I am most often asked by friends, family, potential clients, and even strangers at parties are “What is therapy like? What happens?” Some people who have never sat on the couch genuinely wonder what goes on behind that closed door. Others use this is as a way to tease out my particular therapeutic style. Most often, though, it is a question about what happens in the first session with any therapist. I certainly understand the question.

Picture it. Jonesboro, Arkansas. 1998. A young man goes to a therapist’s office for the first time. There was nothing that drove me to therapy. I was not depressed. I was not anxious. There had been no breakup. Work was good. School was good. I went to the therapist because it seemed like I should. Most of my friends were in therapy. Everyone had an “analyst” even if they had nothing to analyze. And then we analyzed that! Seemed very Woody Allen-esque to me.

I showed up for my first session and the therapist matter-of-factly asked what was wrong. When I explained that there was nothing wrong and I was perfectly happy, he had the unmitigated gall to accuse me of masking symptoms and living in a state of denial. Well now we had something to discuss! And we did. For three weeks. And I got bored. And then he got bored. We ran out of things to talk about. And I found other ways to spend money and be entertained.

I’m not sure if that was how my introduction to therapy was supposed to unfold. From what I hear from friends and colleagues, there is no one single way for a therapist and client to first connect. That’s certainly been my experience. In the last decade of working in mental health in various office, jail, and correctional facility settings, I have never found one sure-fire way to begin a therapeutic journey.

It’s perfectly normal and natural to feel nervous about your first counseling session, or your first session with a new therapist. I understand it takes a lot of courage to share your feelings and experiences with someone you just met. Our first interaction is really about establishing an initial connection. You deciding if I’m a good fit for you, and me deciding if I can help you. We work together to identify and understand your concerns and develop a plan to make changes in your life. This process usually takes several sessions. I think of it as the “getting to know each other” stage of our new relationship. This is a collaborative process, but ultimately you are in the driver’s seat.

Switchback at the base of Cape Smokey, Cabot Trail, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia.See, that doesn’t sound at all scary, does it? In my mind, therapy is a purposeful conversation between two people where one of those people happens to be in need of some assistance and guidance and the other one has some training to be helpful. We talk. A lot. We both talk. And I listen. A lot. We discuss. We explore. We. Both of us talking together. It’s a collaboration. And from my experience, if you’re able to talk to a friend then you’re pretty well able to talk to a therapist.

I know what you’re thinking….”does that mean you’re a paid friend?” Absolutely not! I am a paid professional who is good at relating to people and getting them to open up about what’s working and not working, and then helping them find better ways to problem solve and be happy. It sometimes seems like a friendship because there is genuine caring and a certain amount of back-and-forth in my conversational approach. But I am not a paid friend. I am a therapist and my job is to help you live your healthiest and happiest life.

But stop and consider this. If it often seems so friendly, doesn’t that mean it’s not really that scary? I sure hope so. I like to think I’m the least scary person on the planet. I take great pride in making people comfortable so we can effectively problem solve. I try really hard to lessen any anxious discomfort and allow you to focus on what’s happening. Does that mean it’s all laughter and giggles? No chance! There are tears sometimes. Every now and then you might even make realizations you didn’t want and consider throwing a brick through my window in the wee hours of the morning. I just ask you show up at the next appointment so we can talk about it and keep moving forward. And maybe that you wrap that brick in a reminder slip so I know who to bill. Just kidding. Sort of.

If you really want to get a feel for what that first session will be like, ask to talk to therapist for a few minutes over the phone. Most therapists are frequently quite busy and booked much of the day, but there are opportunities to return a five-minute phone call. Given that therapy is not inexpensive and requires some commitment, it only makes sense to me that you might want to chat me up for a few minutes before making an appointment. It’s similar to the “free consultations” offered by a lot of professionals, just briefer. Though it would be unreasonable to expect more than five or ten minutes, it’s a sensible request and one that I always honor.

From there the journey is something we navigate together. There is no one right way or one right path for all clients. See what happens. Take the chance. I don’t know the statistics on people dying from anxiety or fright in a therapist’s office but I’m pretty sure those are some low odds.

Happy SandSo back to the original question. When I went to therapy “for real,” the first session was nerve wracking. For all of about ten minutes. I didn’t know what to expect. It was a woman. And a very young one. Fresh out of school, in fact. But I went because someone I trusted recommended her. The interaction was professional, but friendly. She asked me so many questions I thought she was ghost writing my autobiography. We talked. We laughed. I cried. She comforted. I felt like she understood me. It still wasn’t that easy for me to open up, but once I did my life got a lot better. I returned. There was a lot of back-and-forth as I thought through issues and she made poignant observations and helpful suggestions. And from time to time I still check in as needed. Yes, therapists sometimes sit on the couch as well, but that’s a whole other blog entry. If you’re in pain or confused about life or want things to be different, go that first session. Walk through the door. Take that first step on a journey of enlightenment and improvement. It can be so worthwhile.