Sometimes You Need To See Yourself In Others
A shared mirror of understanding
I still remember the first day I met my current therapist, about five years ago. She was maybe the 4th person I had tried talking to since I started seeking mental health help. None of the other therapists had inspired much confidence from me, so talk therapy hadn’t stuck even though I desperately needed it.
But upon spilling my guts out on that couch (thank god it wasn’t one of those weird reclining ones you see in the movies) and comparing notes, I realized she and I were pretty alike. Just like that, feeling like I was amongst one of my own, I felt safe to open up. The connection missing with all the rest was alive and well with this person who could actually understand where I was coming from.
What my therapist and I sadly have in common is that we both grew up in homes with alcoholism, the root cause of all of my troubles in adulthood. Most of the time, you’ll find that people in the helping professions actually come from difficult childhoods where they didn’t get the help they needed and now wish to provide that help to others somehow.
Meeting More Of My Kind
One of the first things my therapist had me do after I started therapy was visit an AL-ANON meeting. Al-ANON is a support group for the family members of alcoholics. Being the introvert I am, the thought of sitting in a room next to a bunch of strangers and pouring my heart out sounded like my worst nightmare, but deep down, I did feel called to try it.
I tried a couple of different places for meetings, and the people were kind, loving, beautiful souls everywhere I went. In all of these places I walked into, I could feel the same thing I felt when I walked into my therapist’s office: understanding. I’ve always felt like an outsider, but here, I was amongst my own.
I went to a few meetings for a few months but eventually stopped because it takes effort to show up and guts to be so vulnerable. Even amongst my own, I still felt so pried open and vulnerable the more I opened up, and I wasn’t ready for that just yet.
I wasn’t ready to face the truths coming up for me in these meetings. Sometimes, when I shared, truths that I wasn’t even aware of made their way up and out, or I would see myself reflected in these other people who would share.
Still, even though the meetings didn’t feel like my thing at the time, the lessons I gained in passing from at least taking a chance were so life-changing for me. Plus, it doesn’t mean that I won’t change my mind someday and decide I feel ready to go back.
It’s been some time, but I still find comfort in that little prayer we used to open up meetings with:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. — The Serenity Prayer
Lessons Learned
One of the biggest takeaways from this experience is that I learned I am not alone. So many others have suffered and still suffer in different and similar ways from the problem of alcohol addiction. It’s easy to feel alone because we all do our best to pretend everything is okay at home, and sometimes, we do an excellent job keeping up appearances. Just because people don’t regularly discuss what is wrong doesn’t mean there are no problems.
Another thing I learned is that sharing your truth aloud helps you separate yourself from the emotion temporarily, and you get to, in a sense, observe it rather than feel it. Once I shared my story out loud, I could separate myself from the situation enough to see it from a third-person perspective. You could see a clear path forward when you aren’t crippled or overwhelmed with emotion. Speaking out loud helped me reframe my situation; suddenly, I didn’t feel as helpless as before.
Moreover, practicing speaking my truth helped me develop the resilience to continue speaking my truth. Before these meetings, I couldn’t even begin to talk about my past without automatically bursting into tears and becoming a mumbling mess. So I just kept it all in, and it just burst out of me at the wrong times in the wrong ways, and trust me, you do not want to do that. If not for you, do it for those you love. Hurt people, hurt people.
Other Ways To Reflect
Support groups could be intimidating, especially for millennials who fear speaking to people in general, whether in person or over the phone. Or is that just me? If support groups seem like a step too far, reading literature from people who lived through similar experiences is just as reassuring.
AL-ANON, for example, has books you can purchase online or in person at the meetings. Some books have stories separated into different dates of the year, so you could keep one of the books on your nightstand and read the story of the day first thing in the morning or at night before bed. The stories are relatable, and the reflection these people share in their stories helps me come to many of my own realizations.
Another option is to find a therapist that resonates with you. You don’t necessarily need a therapist who has lived through some of the same things you have. You just need a therapist with empathy and compassion, making you feel seen and heard. That can look like someone who specializes in the kind of trauma you experienced as a child or the kind of therapy you are interested in receiving. It’s okay if the first person is not a good fit; you can look elsewhere until you find the one.
If you want to try something other than these ideas, you could write things down instead. You won’t see things clearly for what they are until you get them out of your head. Give yourself some headspace, and pour all those worries into paper or a private online journal. I like using Day One as my online journal; it’s password-protected and everything.
Opening up is hard, but living closed off forever is harder. You will remain disconnected from everyone else, including yourself, as long as you remain closed off. Seek out your own if that’s what feels safer for you. Go where you can see yourself in others and experience that understanding you seek.