Why It Took Me Twenty-Five Years to Get Into Therapy

What to consider when you are holding yourself back from becoming your best and most healthy self.

For years, I have been overly familiar with that creeping feeling. It’s the choking burn that embeds itself in my throat and chest as my mind spirals over unchecked to-do lists and past transgressions. Why, at 3 am, do I mull over a regrettable college choice at the exact same moment that I realize I forgot to buy peanut butter for tomorrow’s school lunches? Anxiety becomes the hamster that sets the wheel spinning. 

I’ve always been a worrier by nature. I watch the avatars that represent my kids on the Find My app to ensure my brain knows that their bikes made it safely to school. Despite a solid monthly income and respectable savings, I fear the rug will get pulled out from under me at work and the stability of my family will be in jeopardy. With the heightened threat level of the past few years, I’ve been a powder keg of nervous energy. 

Talk of the importance of mental health and a commitment to self-care has emerged as a dominant theme this year, particularly as we as a society attempt to recover and regroup from traumatic times. But that was certainly not the narrative when I was growing up. For those of us who are Gen-X latchkey kids, expressions of struggle or challenge were greeted by Boomer parents with dismissive encouragement to power through, to try harder, or to simply behave yourself. Addressing mental health was perceived as having a problem. Our self-reliance fueled our concerns and our circumstances conditioned us to grin and bear it.

Now, the taboos associated erroneously with mental health care are lifting and it is widely known that it is wise to invest in yourself through therapy. In the words of the illimitable RuPaul, “If you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else?” (Can I get an amen up in here?)

And yet in 2022, at 44 years old, I had never engaged in therapy. I knew I was suffering, and I knew I needed support and tools that I did not possess. With all the effuse praise for mental well-being, what was holding me back from pursuing my own therapy?

Fear

Fear can look differently for everyone. Whether it is fear of how you will be perceived by others, fear of judgment, or fear of the unknown, it can be a feeling that freezes forward movement. For me, the idea of losing control was paralyzing. I was deeply afraid of unearthing painful memories and sitting with shame about happenings both in and out of my control. 

Avoiding past trauma

No one likes the uncomfortable feeling of addressing trauma. To dig up all the thoughts and feelings I buried feels like I am drilling a well and I’ve struck oil. Not in a good sense, but rather in the sense that the pain feels sticky, messy, and hard to shake off once unleashed. 

“You are so strong!”

Anyone else a high-achieving person with anxiety? Traits like drive, determination, and perfectionism receive compliments on a regular basis and they tend to be perceived by others as strengths. From the outside, one might think my life is peachy and they would have no idea about issues I’ve faced (parental drug and alcohol use, neglect, poverty, verbal abuse, just to name a few.) I’ve kept that baggage packed tight and I’ve carried its weight through every walk of life. It seemed only right to simply carry on. That is, until I felt I didn’t have the capacity to carry it any longer. 

Money

In my early twenties, therapy seemed like more of a privilege than a necessity. From under a mound of crushing student loan debt and with insurance that didn’t prioritize mental health services, the cost of entry seemed insurmountable. When it was a choice between therapy and utilities, I chose the latter. It wasn’t until I got coverage that amounted to a simple copay that I finally considered therapy as a viable option. And guess what? This means it is still a privilege afforded to me through my employer rather than the absolute right it should be for all.

With financial barriers removed and with a resolve to proceed, I began to source therapists and call around for availability. I found a wonderful MFT who specializes in anxiety, depression, and how childhood trauma affects us into adulthood. Despite my trepidations, I made my first appointment. 

My limitations and fears had not entirely dissipated, so what pushed me to go forth?

Breaking the cycle 

It was right around the time that I heard myself impatiently yell at my kids, “Because I said so, OK?!” that I realized that my coping strategies were no longer serving me. And if they aren’t serving me, then how am I serving my kids? More so, what patterns or ideas am I passing onto them? I became afraid that my damage was transmitting over to them. I worried that my habits were creating tension with my spouse. This time, I let fear be my motivator rather than my hindrance. Creating healthier spaces for my family is the priority.

Letting go of judgment

It is hard to recondition your mind after a lifetime of messaging around resilience. Instead of being upset with myself because I was crying, I want to be curious about why I’m crying. Rather than feel weak in adversity, I want to be open to vulnerability. I don’t dismiss my pains or physical concerns; I validate them and seek care. I’ve found that as I am less critical of myself, I become more able to affirm my needs. 

Whole body care

Working out is a great tool for self-care. I jumped on the Peloton bandwagon in 2019. My bike has been my outlet for both physical and mental release. Strength training fuels my resilience in a positive way. Investing more time into my fitness and health made me feel strong, powerful, and energized. It was time to infuse that same determination into my emotional and mental health. The two go hand in hand. 

Support from others

Sometimes, you need to tell trusted family and friends that you are not feeling “fine”. The support I’ve received from valued loved ones with whom I’ve chosen to share my foray into therapy has been deeply gratifying. In fact, it has formed even deeper bonds of trust and connection as people have opened up about their own well being work. 

Releasing the valve

Everyone needs a place to really let go. With my therapist, I can cry, rant, cheer, question, and emote in any direction I feel. And while it doesn’t always feel good, in the end, it is always truly great. A cathartic cry in the shower can help let off steam, but it is in a therapist’s care that you can truly deconstruct, decompress, and seek direction to let the healing begin. 

If you are debating the merits of counseling or therapy, I implore you to question yourself about what is holding you back and what you stand to gain. It is never too late to start.