taking the first step
A man's journey through mental health through therapy, prescription drugs, and a mind of endless thoughts and questions.
Today is the last day of men’s mental health month, which is obviously an arbitrary month, but things only have the meaning we give them as a community.
This time of year has meaning to me because two years ago around this time, I finally gained the strength to ask for help after fighting in the shadows for the majority of my life.
Depression is a wicked disease that will sink its claws in you and take over your entire mind without you even aware it’s happening. It will mess with you, trick you and make you believe that a less-than-ideal version of yourself is all you are capable of and all you deserve.
On top of that, to the fault of no one, I adopted a lot of the toxic masculinity traits that plague males, without knowing how treacherous they can become when they’re wired into you. Imagine a bunch of different cables tied together, all leading different ways. You know you need to fix it, untangle some of those wires, but it’s also fine if it just stays there. Not to mention, you try to hide it whenever anyone else comes to take a look. Shove it behind something or cover it up, just so no one notices. But it’s still there the entire time even if no one else realizes it.
All of this added up to me having an ass backwards definition of “strength”, which was also the same definition I learned growing up.
Strength was suffering in silence.
Strength was doing the work and shutting up.
Strength was figuring it out on your own.
But, what do you do when you can no longer figure it on your own and the path you followed lead you into an abyss?
I had a few too many days where I would come home from work, go to my room for 20-30 minutes and lay on the bed letting out the smallest, quietest cry ever, hoping my wife wouldn’t hear.
These moments were a red flag to myself, because I had few moments where I would ever outwardly show emotions, such as crying, even when by myself.
It was also a red flag, because on the surface, I had checked a lot of boxes one would check to lead a “successful” life, but couldn’t help feeling endlessly empty no matter where I turned. I would lie to myself and say that the next box to get checked would finally solve everything and I’d be able to achieve that “happiness” that everyone talks about. I had dreams of one day soon starting a family, but after a few too many silent crying sessions, I knew that if I wanted to do that to the best of my ability, I needed to start to untangle my own wires and get everything back on the right track.
I figured my first step had to be therapy. I had known for quite a while that I’d eventually end up in therapy. My wife had been in therapy for years, and did the lords work in helping me understand that you can go to therapy as a normal, functioning person. Just by viewing and talking with her over the years, it helped knock out a lot of the stigma that I had sitting in my brain about therapy.
I should mention that I had a previous, short, stint in therapy through an EAP program about a year before this current attempt. It didn’t last long. I didn’t fit with my therapist at all, and it defeated me. Eventually I just stopped showing up and stopped asking for appointments, hoping it would just go away, the same thing I did with most issues in my life. But, I tried right? Box checked. It wasn’t for me. Can’t say I didn’t try! After this failure, I just put therapy back in the box and shoved it in the closet. I didn’t think I’d ever go again. But, a few more of those above mentioned quiet crying sessions and I knew I had to pick myself up and head back to therapy.
I first tried to do what I did before, go on Psychology Today and try to find someone that looked like a fit for me. I had no idea what that looked like and just the idea of more trial and error with a therapist had my anxiety spiking. So, instead I left it up to chance and simply contacted a few local therapy offices with multiple therapists that had availability. I would wait to see who contacted me back and let it go from there.
After getting an appointment with the therapy office that contacted me the quickest with availability that week, an appointment was set. I remember sitting in the office waiting room for my first session, already sweating out of my shirt. I had already questioned my wife about therapy like a detective trying to crack a crime case. “So wait, what is it like again? What am I supposed to say?” As a classic over thinker, the idea of going into a room with just one other person and bearing my soul felt overwhelming, but I knew that I had to face those fears to come out on the other side. So, there I was, sitting in the waiting room trying to figure out how the hell I got here and what would be next. Little did I know, I was beginning a process that I needed to do my entire life and finally had the courage to take the step.
*stay tuned for more*