Therapy is never going to Fix Me

I’ve been thinking a lot about how long I’ve been in therapy, and I recently realized it’s been about 10 (maybe even 11 years.)

From the first moment to a very recent session, I strived to be fixed. And for one reason or another, I felt that I was never good enough. It was a deep seated belief that I just needed to fix myself-- if it wasn't my body, it was the way I navigated the world or it would be the way I spoke or the way I learned. And there has always been this constant desire to change my way of being because something felt off.

My First Therapy Appointment and the Sessions After

I remember sitting there, my leg shaking, waiting to be called in. I was terrified. I wanted to run away. I was a young 20 something year old feeling like I was supposed to have everything together. I didn't actually want to be seen by therapist but everything was caving in and I didn't have a strong emotional support system. While I was sitting in the lobby, I was trying to easy my mind by reading the pamphlets there. But I was unable to shake off my discomfort. Being there made me feel like a failure like I wasn’t capable of handling my own life. When I got called in, my heart dropped. I was so apprehensive to the idea that I almost didn't go in. But something in me, told me I had to go. I needed to work through the pain. I sat there uncomfortably so-- and as soon as the session was over I ran out. I didn't necessarily feel that much different. Just lighter I suppose. In that moment, all I can say is that I committed to coming back every week. And slowly… I started to feel a little better.

Therapy, Round Two (and Three… and Four…)

Eventually, I stopped therapy for one reason or another-- I learned a lot about myself and I learned a lot of life skills in therapy. But later that year, after a really difficult breakup, I looked at myself in the mirror and didn’t recognize who I was anymore. That’s when I went back on my own volition.

I remember emailing multiple therapy offices because I didn’t even have the energy to get on the phone. I just wanted someone to schedule me and tell me when to show up. And finally an office did just that for me. and I booked my first appointment. I was a little apprehensive because I didn't fully trust the process but I stuck with it. Day by day, my days started looking brighter. I started learning what a healthy relationship actually looked like. I learned about boundaries. I learned how to not stretch myself thin for other people.

I not only kept up with it but I told everyone about it. I wanted everyone to experience what I was experiencing-- liberation. Over the next few years, I continued; sometimes on and off due to insurance, jobs, and life shifts. I got to work with all sorts of therapists with different specialties like DBT therapists, somatic therapists, and even a sex therapist. Each one helped me with something different and made me so much wiser. Therapy has been a constant in my life for the last decade and it will likely continue to be.

In my most recent session, my therapist and I talked about something that felt simple, but ended up being really heavy: acknowledging what I’ve overcome. At first, we were talking about all the things I accomplished the past few months-- how a recent diagnosis has shifted the way I see myself. And when she asked me what I wanted to acknowledge about my growth, I started with the present… but then my mind went further back.

Therapy helped me become more self-aware

When I started becoming even more self-aware something still felt off. I don't fully know how to explain it but everything I was working on in therapy didn't fit my life or my understanding or interpretation of the world. And I kept finding myself in situations that I can only describe as unique (like on of my Music theory professors was noticing that I processed auditory signals very differently than my classmates). Anyways it was just an odd thing that I couldn't quite explain... And whenever I tried explaining it I would get met with confusion. Nonetheless, I randomly came across an article about ADHD and as I was reading it, I felt like I was reading about myself. So in 2023, I went to get tested. Surprise, surprise, she's neurospicy. And I thought that would be the end of it (of course it wasn't). While I was getting a handle of my "adhd-ness". I still felt like something was off. Eventually I came to getting tested for autism and again; surprise surprise, I was diagnosed. Since then, my life has gotten a lot simpler because of my understanding of myself.

Reframing my world

A part of me wasn’t ready to hear my evaluation. In fact I burst into tears. But another part of me already knew I was autistic. I’ve never felt normal and always felt like I was performing and hiding-- surviving. While this by no means is a death sentence, I was filled with so much anger and grief. I was angry because I struggled for so long without understanding why. For such a long time, I felt broken, weird, and unloved. It had to be one of the biggest emotional releases that I have had because for once, I had clarity.

Since then, I have reframed a lot of moments in my life and therapy has become very different. I'm learning to deconstruct my biases and many systems I created-- I'm even learning to unmask because I've internalized a lot of pressure. Even though, I've been in therapy this long, it sometimes feels like the first session.

Will my mind ever be fixed?

Despite all this therapy, sometimes I cannot shake off the feeling or the burning question: Will I ever be fixed? I feel like I should have figured everything out by now. But life keeps happening; New experiences show up, you grow and pivot... and on top of that you're still digging deep down, discovering things about yourself. What's kind of funny about my own paradox is that I originally didn't want to go to therapy for the simple fact that I didn't need "fixing" and now I sometimes feel like I need something to fix.  Maybe it's the internalized perfectionism maybe it's out of habit. But, if I’ve learned anything from being in therapy for over a decade, it’s this:

The goal was never to be fixed. The goal was to grow and become aware of my patterns, build language for my experiences, and to give myself permission to exist as I am.

Because of therapy, I’m still here.