I'm Back/Psychologist Visit
Hey everyone! I'm back from vacation...yada, yada, yada. I'll post some vacation diary stuff and photos soon.
I received mental health counseling today for the first time (the blog wasn't enough)! And, while most people consider this very personal, I don't really mind yapping about it to anyone who will listen. For anyone who knows me as an aquaintance, it may come as a shock that I am not a very happy person.
I chose Marilyn from a website given to me by my crappy insurance. I thought that she looked a lot like my mom and was around the same age, and for some reason, I thought it would be easier to talk to her because of this.
After printing off directions to the clinic from Yahoo!, I stubbled into a commercial building complex with stairs going up and stairs going down. I heard birds in the upstairs part of the building, so I opted to go downstairs, thinking that the upstairs was some sort of petstore. Well, the downstairs ended up leading to nowhere, so I headed up to the "petstore". The "petstore" ended up being the therapy center! The doctor that Marilyn shares the office with owns a couple dogs, a ton of little stupid songbirds, a couple cockatiels, a macaw named "Edna", and another parrot named "Goby". Oh my, they were cute, but very loud. It was a little unsettling when I was filling out paperwork, and I heard someone say "Hello!" really loud- you probably guessed...it was the huge frickin' macaw.
Anyway, Marilyn (pictured above) and I talked for about an hour about all of my problems, and oh my, it was a huge sobfest. Crying in front of a total stranger, especially when I started crying within the first minute of talking to her, is a little embarrassing. But I got used to it because I cried the entire hour. But, I do feel reassured and more confident in myself even after the first session because my depression is not my fault- it's my parents'. And no, I'm not just an angry young adult whose lashing out and blaming them; my psychologist plainly said that they are both self-centered and not very good parents. She also mentioned that I have probably been depressed since I was about eight years old (I used to sit up at night and listen to my parents fight through the air vent in my floor and worry about our financial situation). Messed up, huh? But the good news is that I get happy pills to help me start to emotionally heal.
There are so many details I will not go into because I'm starting to blab. But I think that the moral of my story (and my life) here is that one should not wait so long to get therapy! She was angry at my parents for not caring to actually ask how I feel and seek emotional help for me. So, kids, go to the psychologist, sob, and get happy pills!
I received mental health counseling today for the first time (the blog wasn't enough)! And, while most people consider this very personal, I don't really mind yapping about it to anyone who will listen. For anyone who knows me as an aquaintance, it may come as a shock that I am not a very happy person.
I chose Marilyn from a website given to me by my crappy insurance. I thought that she looked a lot like my mom and was around the same age, and for some reason, I thought it would be easier to talk to her because of this.
After printing off directions to the clinic from Yahoo!, I stubbled into a commercial building complex with stairs going up and stairs going down. I heard birds in the upstairs part of the building, so I opted to go downstairs, thinking that the upstairs was some sort of petstore. Well, the downstairs ended up leading to nowhere, so I headed up to the "petstore". The "petstore" ended up being the therapy center! The doctor that Marilyn shares the office with owns a couple dogs, a ton of little stupid songbirds, a couple cockatiels, a macaw named "Edna", and another parrot named "Goby". Oh my, they were cute, but very loud. It was a little unsettling when I was filling out paperwork, and I heard someone say "Hello!" really loud- you probably guessed...it was the huge frickin' macaw.
Anyway, Marilyn (pictured above) and I talked for about an hour about all of my problems, and oh my, it was a huge sobfest. Crying in front of a total stranger, especially when I started crying within the first minute of talking to her, is a little embarrassing. But I got used to it because I cried the entire hour. But, I do feel reassured and more confident in myself even after the first session because my depression is not my fault- it's my parents'. And no, I'm not just an angry young adult whose lashing out and blaming them; my psychologist plainly said that they are both self-centered and not very good parents. She also mentioned that I have probably been depressed since I was about eight years old (I used to sit up at night and listen to my parents fight through the air vent in my floor and worry about our financial situation). Messed up, huh? But the good news is that I get happy pills to help me start to emotionally heal.
There are so many details I will not go into because I'm starting to blab. But I think that the moral of my story (and my life) here is that one should not wait so long to get therapy! She was angry at my parents for not caring to actually ask how I feel and seek emotional help for me. So, kids, go to the psychologist, sob, and get happy pills!
posted by Sherry @ 7:26 PM
5 Comments:
At June 28, 2006 5:52 AM,
The CDP. said…
Welcome back! I hope you had a great time, and I'm looking forward to the photo diary.
Isn't it nice when someone tells you that it's not your fault you're so messed up? It makes you feel vindicated and slightly...better.
Parents make huge mistakes that scar their offspring forever, because that's what their parents did to them. It's human nature, but it can be reversed. Pills don't hurt, either.
You know that you'll be more attentive and giving to your child. You won't fight in front of them. You won't get liquored up in front of them. You won't make them feel like they are reponsible for your demise. Remember that.
You know, your childhood and my childhood are probably far more similar than either of us would like to admit. I know we've touched on this in the past, just know that when you talk about stuff like this, I honestly know where you're coming from. And while I can't say you'll ever be truly happy with the way your childhood turned out (no chance), just look at where you are now, and understand that you'd never be in this position if is weren't for all the challenges you faced early on.
That's what I do.
At June 28, 2006 6:59 AM,
DifferentDamage said…
For some people that therapy stuff works wonders and for others it doesn't do anything. Glad to hear that the visit helped you.
You and Ben need to come visit.
At June 28, 2006 3:30 PM,
Sherry said…
Thank you for your comments boys. I feel a little weird today about the whole thing (going to the psychologist and how much I cried and then posting about it). Oh well.
Ryan, now that I think about it, our childhoods were pretty similar, except I didn't live on a farm... although I did live in an old farmhouse. Did you get to see any iceskates being thrown past your head at your mom before crashing into the window in the door in the back hall? That would just be creepy. Sometimes I'm thankful for my mom abandoning me and my sister in my late adolescense because I'm so much more mature than the majority of young adults who are my age. I get to see how stupid people are in college. It's quite amusing.
At June 28, 2006 7:23 PM,
The CDP. said…
Sometimes it's best to get it out in the open and discuss it. It takes away the taboo of it and makes you more comfortable as a result.
I don't ice skate, so that wasn't used in particular as a weapon in our household. I've seen my share of things getting thrown and broken though, no doubt.
When I think back, I remember that my parents were younger than I am right now, so while I like to think I would have done a better job, I know they were doing everything they thought was right at the time.
Forgiveness is a huge deal; I can't stress that enough. Not so much forgiving them for messing you up; just understanding that they didn't have an evil master plan to ruin your life. You can hold a grudge forever, but it only hurts you in the end, not them.
Depending on their childhood, certain kids have to grow up much faster than others (by the time I was 17, I had already moved five times). This is depressing in retrospect, but makes you a better adult, should you correctly harness it.
I also think my childhood home was insanely haunted, so that's a whole other can of worms, right there.
Okay, I'm done rambling. Keep on keeping on.
At July 05, 2006 10:10 AM,
Celia said…
When I went to the psychologist, I cried nonstop too. Mostly because that woman frustrated the hell out of me.
I hope it works for you, it's sometimes nice to talk to someone who doesn't know you personally and can listen from an unbiased perspective.
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