I Finally Saw A Therapist

I am seeking treatment I should have had decades ago.

But it’s never too late. I am not writing myself off yet.

The push factor was my upcoming Pet CT Scan for my cancer. It is to make sure I’m in remission and the cancer cells are in check.

It was making me very nervous as I’m deeply claustrophobic, especially in situations where I feel I’m not in control. Plus the small space. It was triggering panic attacks.

I felt much better after I fixed the appointment. I could tick that off the list. Tiny steps.

Feeling even better right now, having seen the therapist. She was very kind and helped me uncover my fears.

I felt like I just spoke too much. On hindsight. Perhaps so much was trapped within me. Verbal diarrhoea. She did say there is a lot to unpack.

She taught me to do tapping while repeating phrases to release my fears. Around the palms, forehead, side of eyes, under the eyes, below collarbone and side of chest.

I have to confess that my skeptical mind always critiques this as I’m doing it. But my hopeful self wants to be open. I don’t want to sabotage the process with my doubts.

I was supposed to speak to my inner child. But again I found it hard to divorce my adult self from my childhood self. I see us both as one with no separation. Maybe that’s why I’m carrying so much with me.

I am pretty much numb inside. And then talking about certain things trigger involuntary tears. I forcefully held them back. So I didn’t require any tissues.

I didn’t like how my cracking voice sounded. It disgusted me. I don’t like crying in front of anyone. I felt embarrassed that I was this wreck. I’m a control freak.

I only cry when I’m at breaking point and can’t hold back the sadness and tears are then involuntary.

I internalised a lot from society and my culture that we should never be weak. Crying is weak. Therapy is not real. Only chemicals made by pharmaceuticals are.

Sharing certain details makes me feel shame and disgust when only the perpetrator should feel anything. Not me.

I am the victim of a crime. Not one crime but several crimes. If I had reported it to the police, it would have made him lose his job and sent him to jail for years.

Our country is hard on drug crimes but I feel too soft on crimes against children like this. I’d rather they be harder against pedophiles and a sex crime registry is overdue.

The Silent and Boomer Generations were taught to just get on with it no matter what. To dwell is a weakness that is derided. It trickled down to my generation. Generation X.

Millennials and Gen Z are teaching me that it’s perfectly ok to go for therapy. You should. And it works. The generation cruelly labelled the strawberry generation is the one I empathise with and who is teaching me the most.

Back to the therapy session. I learnt that my fears stem from being sexually abused by that paedophile for so many years that I was in constant fight and flight mode. Plus other traumas.

From what my therapist told me this is what I know now. I’m always in danger mode. That’s what panic attacks are. There’s danger and your body is telling you to run. Of course, you can’t breathe. You’re to run as fast as you can to get away as your heart races. In my case, my heart races and breathing is constricted with distress signals from the brain.

She advised me to lean into breathing. I have some homework to do. Tapping and breathing exercises.

I am hopeful.

I feel more prepared.

I can’t wait to write about the scan and tell you it all went well. Thank you for reading this far.

Hope you sign up for Medium with my affiliate link to read all articles.