Guilt and Uncertainty

Today was my last session at the Psychology Clinic here at UNT. My last session at any clinic for awhile.

Guilt and uncertainty are the words to best summarize today’s final session.

Guilt over the fact that I really wish I could have another semester to work with my therapist. I feel like we were making great progress together. We've worked on so much together and I feel as though we were starting to get more into things but now I'm leaving.

I feel so guilty leaving her and I know she wishes we had more time together. It's such a shame we only had this semester together. I know there are things she could help me with; we could continue progressing with.

I feel guilty over the fact that we were making such progress. I feel guilty over the fact that we've only been together for a semester especially when I was already at the clinic for a year already prior to meeting her.

We discussed a lot.; finished up things. Talked a little bit about therapy in general and how things very from session to session and how it takes awhile for things to improve. Things that I worked on the previous semesters might not apply so much this semester. Basically, I guess she was trying to point out that just because I dealt with things already in therapy, that doesn't mean things were essentially "done"; that I was essentially "done" dealing with them.I told her about the quote and how I felt it applied a lot to my current situation and she agreed. 

We talked about this semester and if I felt I made progress. I told her I have. Things have certainly gotten better. Things will continue to improve though. I hope so.

I just really wish I could stay with her for another semester. I know given the chance both of us would take advantage of it. I can almost guarantee that she and I both would benefit immensely from me being able to stay.  She could continue working with me and possibly we'd be able to essentially "fix me"; resolve all my problems.

I feel that given another semester at the Psychology Clinic here, I'd be able to get better. Get back to a good place in my life with her help. Who knows, perhaps if I stayed here, there would be a chance that by the end of the semester, I'd no longer need therapy for awhile.

I can dream can't I? But unfortunately, that's not likely to happen. Not unless some miracle happens and I end up somehow finding a job here in Denton for the semester while I'm at the same time working on finding a full-time job.

Still though, I do plan on continuing therapy. Somewhere. Somehow. I need to.

That much my therapist emphasized. She really wants me to find someone to continue my progress. She doesn't want me losing everything I've worked so hard to improve.

Uncertainty summarizes everything else discussed in therapy. My therapist picked up on that fact almost immediately. She could just sense how uncertain I felt; the most I’ve felt all semester.

It's horrible feeling this way but that's how it is. I'm so uncertain about everything. I don't know what to do anymore.

Everything is ending and it's almost overwhelming me. Therapy is ending, my life as I know it is essentially ending, I'll be moving, and then there's graduation. Just a lot going on at once.

I'm afraid. Afraid of leaving therapy. Afraid of what's to come.

We've made so much progress that it's hard for me to essentially start again. I've started over so many times but for what is perhaps the first time, I don't want to start over. I'd much rather not start over. I'm at a point where I feel that given one more semester, we could resolve a lot of my problems.

That would mean that I would have been at the Clinic for 2 years by that point and 2 years of continuous therapy would probably be enough for me to get back on track.

That's why I'm actually a bit leary about even finding someone when I go back home. Starting over with someone again there and the having to start over AGAIN when I eventually end up somewhere. Depending on how long it takes, it may or may not be worth it. Especially being that I'd have to have all my records sent from place to place.

I just have a lot of things on my mind; a lot of decisions to make and don't really know what to chose. Which was one of the other things my therapist pointed out to me. She felt as though I was pulling her into making a decision for me which she can't do and I know she can't but I guess I still kinda want her to. I need some guidance on how I can make such decisions myself.

I have a lot of things to think about in the upcoming days and weeks. Things that won't be easy but I have to do them regardless.

There's also a slight fear I have regarding the fact that I feel like I'm slowly on a decline. Like I'm slowly getting closer and closer to a nervous breakdown.  I really think it's a possibility and it does worry me a bit.

I mean, I feel like I've made progress but at the same time I feel like I'm slowly going backwards if that makes sense. It's almost like I am starting to develop depression or anxiety. Like the supposed "borderline" is slowly becoming less so and more like a full on depression. Still though, I haven't been officially diagnosed yet.

The thing is that today my therapist asked me if I felt less interested in things. I didn't exactly give her an answer now that I think about it. I mean, I don't feel like I've lost a lot of interest in things. Not exactly I mean.

But now that I think about it, I wasn't being entirely truthful either. I have lost some interest in things. Not on purpose but more like I just have a lot on my mind lately and haven't really thought about them.

I've kinda lost interest in singing and playing my piano. In a lesser sense, I've lost some interest in the Internet and particularly social media sites. Mostly though, that's because no one really talks to me much anymore online so I don't see the point.

I still have things I enjoy and really I wouldn't say that I've lost interest entirely but perhaps the interest has dwindled somewhat.

There's also the fact that I basically admitted to her that I haven't felt really happy in some time.  I mean I just feel ok. Not sad exactly but not happy exactly.

I'm not trying to self-diagnose but perhaps I do have a bit of depression. Maybe it's escalated that far by now?

I don't know. What's going to happen now? I really don't know. That's perhaps the scariest part of all.

Part of me wishes I could stay here just to find out. It seems like at least here I have a chance at finding an answer.

"Perfect" addendem

Sometimes when I feel like I can't find any other answer to explain some of my problems, I can't help but come back to my personality type and it just being part of being an "INFJ". Not because it's the "easy" answer but because I've pretty much exhausted all other ideas and this is really the only thing I have left.

I'm talking about my personality type a lot lately and I realize this but it's something I've been thinking about a lot lately. I'm trying to understand how my problems could be part of this personality. Not trying to use it as an excuse but more as a way to understand where some of my problems could be coming from.

I'm wondering if this whole perfectionism is just part of my personality at this point. It's just me. It's part of who I am.

I'm still thinking about the whole  "perfect" thing that was mentioned to me in my session yesterday. I know that I'm a bit of a perfectionist but I don't know where this idea of "perfection" came from.

I know it's this perfectionist nature causing me a lot of unnecessary stress. It's the reason for a lot of my problems. I want to be "perfect" so I try really really hard at things and as a result makes it harder when I fail.

 I'm sure it's also because of this "perfectionist" nature that I tend to procrastinate a lot of times. I've dealt with procrastination issues for a lot time and I'm sure this is one reason why.

I recently found something I wrote in my Introductory Psychology class that I took at my community college back in Spring 2007: "People procrastinate because they have a low tolerance of frustration or because they feel anxious and fear failure."

This explains my struggles so exactly.  I put off doing something because I don't feel like I can do a good job and so I would rather not do it.  Especially if it's something I don't quite understand.

Which goes back to being a perfectionist. If it's not going to be "perfect" in my opinion, why should I do it?

I set high standards for myself and when I fail to meet such standards, I'm really hard on myself.
Many times I've had to settle for turning in work that was, in my opinion, less than quality; wasn't good enough.  I always feel miserable when I do this.  Yet, many times my work comes back with a fairly decent grade.

It bothers me because I feel like I could have done better and then I blame myself for not taking more time to work on it; starting earlier instead of waiting until almost the last minute.

I'm working on trying to be more accepting that my work isn't going to be "perfect" all the time. It will probably never be "perfect". It's a struggle but I am trying to work on it. I'm at least starting to recognize when I'm doing it; trying to make something "perfect" and causing myself stress.

The thing is though, my "perfectionist" nature isn't in everything I do. As a child I never really tried to be "perfect" as far as my grades were concerned. At least, I didn't seem to. Sure I would work really hard but I was ok with getting a "B" in a class on my report card. I didn't get "A"s all the time and I still seemed ok with it. I was still happy with my grade.  Even on my assignments, I would usually get A's or B's and be happy.

If I got anything lower, then yeah, most often times I wasn't happy.  But still I did well enough in school that the only times I got anything less than a "B" were on my class assignments and I was usually ok with that. 

By the time I got to high school though, things started getting a bit difficult. I took some AP courses and struggled with both of them. My first AP course was European history. I'd already had struggled with history courses before so I don't really know why I decided to go for an AP course but I did. I struggled a lot in that class especially when it came to the exams.  After the first semester, I had a B.  I just knew if I stayed in the course though chances are my grade would drop even more and I'd fail it. I didn't want that so I switched to regular World History instead. Now looking  back on this, I guess it was that "perfectionist" nature of mine; the fact that I didn't want to fail that made me switch.

My first real, "C" grade came in college during my senior year of High School. I was a dual-credit student which meant that I took college credit classes as a high schooler and received credit for both high school and college. Which meant that by the time I started at the college as a full-time freshmen student, I already had about a semester's worth of credits already.

My first "C" was in yet another European history course. This was my first "C" in college and I remember feeling pretty horrible about it for awhile. I struggled in the course and I knew it. I didn't want a "C" but that's what the grade ended up being. This was the first of several C's in my college career. I hated getting C's but eventually I was content to just even pass the course. I struggled in the courses where I ended up with C's. It got to a point that if I was just glad to have passed the course.I still wasn't pleased with the grade but I guess I learned to just be ok with it.

Even when I got into grad school, I hated the thought of getting a "C" and I knew I couldn't. I had to get a "B" or better or otherwise the course wouldn't count credit.  This really wasn't a big problem for me to get at least a "B"but that was until my School Librarianship course happened. Up until that course, I'd had a 4.0 GPA. I'd gotten A's in all my courses. My School Librarianship course really pushed me. I really struggled with the assignments. I was hoping I would end up getting a "B" but even that seemed like a far fetched idea and by the end of the semester, I already has resigned myself to a "C" grade.

I'm still not happy about this. I feel like I should have just withdrawn from the course and I got really close to doing it. It got to that point. But again, I didn't and just suffered through it. My GPA suffered from this course and even taking this extra course this semester and most likely passing it with an A will not be enough to make up and bring back my 4.0.

Thinking about it, the fact that the SCC used the term in describing some of my problems, makes a lot of sense. I've struggled with being perfect for a long time and still struggle with it. 

It can be a blessing and a curse but for me, it's mostly a curse.
Right now my perfectionist nature is more noticeable to me because I'm a college student but I know it's going to continue being a problem for me in my career and I'm going to have to learn how to deal with it.

To be ok with not always being "perfect".

Perfect

One word. So simple and yet so powerful. Perfect.

A word that comes up with me far too often it seems. A word that the Student Counseling Center used in a description about me and some of my problems; the fact that I seem to struggle with trying to be “perfect” . This is some of the information that was sent over to the Psychology Clinic. Information that I was asked about at one point in today’s therapy session.

We certainly discussed a lot today. A lot things were covered. Thankfully we covered everything that was on my mind this week. Everything that I at least wanted to mention to her before our sessions end. I also made her a little emotional again this week. Not full on emotional break down like I have but I could see on her face, that she could feel my pain; that she could feel how hard things were for me emotionally. 

My therapist mentioned that she had received some information from the SCC. I explained to her that I'd had them send the information to the Clinic so that when I found another therapist they could then forward all the information from the Clinic.

She then mentioned something about how in the information sent over, it mentioned something about "perfect" and she wanted to know a bit more about it.

I am a bit of a perfectionist and I’ve admitted it so many times. But the question is why?
Why do I try so hard to be perfect? Why do any of us try to be perfect?

I know it’s an unattainable goal. I know this deep inside myself. And still I try to be “perfect”
I don’t know why this is. I know nobody’s perfect. I know no matter how hard I try at things, I’m never going to be perfect. Nothing I do ever will be perfect.

So why then do I keep striving for perfection? Why do I not grasp the understanding that nothing is ever going to be perfect?

Why do I continue chasing something that never will be? That doesn’t exist? Never will exist?
Why do I push myself so hard to be “perfect” in my assignments?

At least I’ve started recognizing this about myself. I’m realizing that I’m causing myself unnecessary stress by trying to be perfect at everything I do. Still though it doesn’t make it any easier . It doesn’t stop me from still trying.

I know I'm not perfect. Or at least I know that deep inside me.

But I've starting to realize this somewhat and I'm trying really hard to stop this thinking of me always having to be perfect.

That's where the progress came in on Sunday. I recognized that I causing myself unnecessary stress because I was trying to be perfect. I was overthinking the assignment; trying to make it perfect.

I have other things that I'm supposed to be reflecting on this week but I can't stop thinking about the whole "perfect" thing now.  Just hearing that it's what the Counseling Center thought one of my problems was and they're the ones who identified it. 

I know I struggle with this. The idea of "perfection" but hearing someone else confirm it is a bit overwhelming. Perhaps even a bit of relief. Yet it's something that I don't understand exactly. I mean, I know I struggle with it but don't understand my reasoning.  It's something that's now on my mind and will be something to mention at our last session next week.

That's the other thing. I started getting emotional when she mentioned forwarding the information from the clinic to my therapist in New Mexico if I found one.  I couldn't really describe it to her because honestly I didn't know what I was feeling. Now I realize what I'm feeling.

I'm afraid. I'm afraid to move on. I'm afraid to start over. I'm afraid I won't find a therapist back home and that's how it's looking. I'm worried about how I'm going to be able to cope in the meantime. I plan to continue therapy but I'm not sure I'll be able to find someone until I find where I end up.

I'm not trying to make it sound as though I'm using therapy as a crutch. I'm sure I'll be able to cope without it for a while. However, I am concerned about losing a lot of the progress that has been made. I'm concerned that I could go backwards. That things could take a turn for the worse.

I guess yes, I'm afraid to go without therapy now. Because I don't really trust myself to cope with things on my own without it. 

One more thing, I'm supposed to reflect this week on other times where I blamed myself for things that were out of my control. The thing is that I realize that I blame myself a lot for things.I blame myself for people taking advantage of me too. But specifically blaming myself for something that was beyond my control? Except for the Incident with  my neighbor, I can't really think about another time.

Next week is our last session of the semester.  Actually my last session for who knows how long. Next week we'll be wrapping things up. Hopefully she'll be giving me coping techniques or things I can do to help me while I'm between therapists.

I feel like next week will be a lot better in terms emotionally. This week, I just felt so emotionally worked up and I told her. I think it's just all the stress I'm dealing with specifically in regards to my final project. Actually I just think it's stress in general. But after this week, I won't feel stressed so much so I feel as things will be a bit better for me emotionally.

I feel as though I'll be calmer next week. Or hopefully I'll be.

There's one thing left I want to mention to her though. A quote that I want to leave with her and that I'm going to end this blog post with. A quote that I feel defines much of my life situation currently:

"It takes ten times as long to put yourself together as it does to fall apart"-Finnick Odair.
Mockingjay; The Hunger Games Trilogy by Suzanne Collins

INFJ personality and therapy

 I got to thinking about my INFJ personality in relation to therapy the other day. I decided to search the Internet to see what was being said about this.

I also took a more in-depth personality type test that was linked to on one of the sites I looked at. 72 questions all answered completely honestly and the result: INFJ. Yep. I have to be honest, when this turned out to be my result, I actually broke down in tears out of what I guess to be relief. This result is more defining than the simple 4 question test I'd taken a while back ago. Time and time again I keep coming back to INFJ  being my personality. I've known for awhile but this new test just further proves it.

I also want to say that it is just chance that I got interested in my personality type. Up until the test I took several months ago, I had no knowledge of the different personality types in regards to Myers-Briggs or anything like that.  When I discovered my possible type, of course I researched it. Not knowing anything about it, I read the description and realized how accurately it described me. I'm not trying to let it define me either; it does that enough on it's own. Plus it's not something I constantly think about although every so often I get into these moods where I do think more about it.

So anyways, going back to INFJ's in relation to therapy. It turns out there's a lot being said about INFJ's in regards to therapy. At least from what I've found.

In my searching, I stumbled across some message boards for INFJ's talking about it. Saying how either therapy helped them or didn't really help them.

I've already said that I'm extremely fortunate to have found such wonderful therapists who I feel really understand me. Especially my therapist this semester, I really feel as though she's someone who really understands me.

I've read about some other INFJ's on these forums and how they've tried therapy but felt as though their therapists didn't really understand them. They felt their therapists didn't do much for them because their therapists didn't understand the INFJ personality and tried to change them or make them do things they just weren't ready to do.

They've also talked about how some of their therapists have asked them if they even needed to keep coming to therapy because they seem to "know" the answers; have things "figured out". One person even mentioned how their therapist stopped seeing them after they started journaling. Others have essentially created their own personal imaginary therapist.

Others have talked about how they didn't really see the need to go to therapy. They don't see how therapy would help them.  Being that INFJ's are essentially therapists themselves, the people tended to seem like they were better able to help themeselves.

It's just interesting to me that even though we're all INFJ's and share some of the same traits, we are still uniquely different. There's still so much variety.

Reading about other INFJ's gives me more insight to me as an individual though and reading about how some people have struggled with therapists, makes me even more fortunate to have found therapists I feel really understand me.

I honestly feel that my therapist sees my INFJ personality and she works with it. It's almost hard not to see my INFJ personality sometimes I feel. The fact that I find it hard to express my feelings verbally but yet have no problem expressing them on paper  (which seems to be a fairly common thing I've gathered from reading these message boards. That it's a fairly common thing for INFJ's); the fact that I have a lot of "internal conflicts";  the fact that I feel like I'm a complicated individual; the fact that I struggled for the longest time to reveal all to my therapist, holding back for fear of judgement; the fact that I am a reserved person; the fact that I tend to be very emotional and sensitive.

Basically so much of what I say or don't say in therapy just seems to scream "INFJ" to me and I would think it screams it to my therapists too. While my therapists have never mentioned my personality type, I'm sure they have recognized it; did recognize it in the first 15 minutes of our first sessions and if not, I'm sure it become abundantly clear to them after a couple of sessions.

The thing is though, I feel as though both of my therapists have understood me and my personality type. They seem to understand it without me having to come out and say it.  I've never even mentioned it to them, yet I believe they've figured it out and how it relates to my problems.

I think the fact that they seem to understand my personality type is perhaps because they take classes on personality or they have the option to. I know because I looked at the course offerings for Psychology courses or at least those for an undergrad. ( I was curious!) Perhaps they have similar courses for grad students. Still though it seems as though somewhere in their coursework they have studied about personalities and different traits and such and have learned to be responsive to them all; how to work with all these different types.  I also know that they do offer a Myers-Briggs test  and similar types of personality testing at the Clinic so I'm sure that my therapists have to have knowledge of them.

Like I've already mentioned, reading about other INFJ's has given me more insight into me as an individual. I feel as though I can relate to a lot of the same things. I see people mentioning things and realize that I'm the same way. 

For instance one person was talking about her therapist and how her therapist understands that the person thinks a lot about herself and her psyche;why she does certain things, etc. Her therapist also understands that the person doesn't come up with A solution but instead comes up with multiple acceptable possibilities and then she gets stuck!

This sounds a lot like me. I have the same problems!

 The same person also mentioned how now that she's cutting back on how often she sees her therapist it makes her nervous and she comes across multiple things a day that she want to talk to her therapist about.

Again I can totally relate to this! Definitely about the multiple things a day thing! Right now I have about 4 or 5 things I already want to mention to my therapist on Wednesday but I'm concerned that there isn't enough time. I only have one more session this semester after this week and then I'll be without therapy for who knows how long.

I don't really know if INFJ's seek therapy more often than other personality types or if INFJ's are more likely to develop mental health issues or not.

 All I know is that I'm an INFJ and  I am in therapy for reasons. Then again now that I think about it, perhaps it's partly because of my INFJ personality that it took so long for me to seek therapy in the first place. I mean really seek therapy.

I've told you I've had struggles since I was a child. I mentioned how during my middle school years, I went to the counselor's office a few times. But it wasn't until my nervous breakdown in 2009 that I actively sought counseling. It was then that I realized my own coping skills were no longer helping me.And again when I moved here, it took me awhile before I really sought counseling. I thought I was handling things but it got to a point where I realized, I wasn't really handling things all that well.

I realize that not all INFJ's may seek therapy because not all need it.

But I do need it. It's been helpful for me and already I've seen progress and hope to continue seeing it.

My mental health

I've told you all that I'm in therapy. I've told you why I'm in therapy. I've told you the full story of one of the reasons why. I've told you about my first sessions and pretty much about all if that since. I've covered almost everything I think I can say about therapy and related topics at this point and yet I still find things to talk about regarding counseling and therapy.  Then there's the fact that each week I go in for a session and it brings up some more thoughts. Some more things to consider.

However, I'm not sure if I've ever specifically talked about my mental health in general here. I know I've mentioned it on my Writing Tumblr (which by the way if any of my readers here are on Tumblr as well and what to read more of my writing you can follow me here: http://aformofexpression.tumblr.com )

Forgive me if I've already talked about this on here already. With the increasing number of posts, I don't have a lot of time to go back and read to see what's already been covered and what hasn't.

Lately I've been thinking about my mental health in general. I've admitted that I've had mental health problems to people or at least I admit that I'm in therapy for mental health issues. I'm not ashamed of this.  By admitting that I'm in therapy, I'm admitting that I'm having problems with my mental health and that I know I need help. That I'm doing the responsible thing by seeking help. That I'm concerned for myself and my own well-being

No one told me to seek therapy. I made the decision on my own. I knew I could no longer handle things on my own.

In a questionnaire survey for my chiropractor, they asked questions regarding mental health and I answered them as honestly as I could. To me, it almost makes it seem as though answering the questions the way I did makes me seems as though I'm someone who has some serious issues regarding mental health.

At this point, when it comes to people asking about or wondering about if I have any mental health issues, I admit it. It's weird because I've never really thought about me having to admit it before. I've never really though of myself as being someone that would have mental health problems.

Yet, I still tend to admit it even though I don't really feel like I really have mental health issue. Well not really any serious mental health issues that would interfere with me being able to perform certain tasks or anything like that. I feel as though my mental health issues aren't even things that really interfere with my normal life. I feel as though I can mostly lead a normal life; function quite normally.

I have struggles and yes, there are some things that trigger some of my problems but really, I'm able to function despite everything. My mental health issues, in my opinon, aren't that serious.

I want to be honest with people though. I want them to know that I'm struggling with some mental health issues but at the same time, I don't want people to take it to the extreme. Yes, I am struggling with things but I'm still doing fine. In other words, if you were to just look at me, you couldn't tell that I was struggling. I don't show it or at least I try not to show it.

Lately too, when people talk about struggling with mental health issues like anxiety and depression, I feel as though I can relate to them. Posts that ask you to reblog or share if you have depression, anxiety, an eating disorder, etc. or any mental health issue,  I feel as though I have to reblog. I feel like I relate to these posts.

I've already admitted to have social anxiety. I've struggled with other problems yet not enough to really be diagnosed with them. Yet, I do have mental health problems even if they aren't that severe. After all, I'm in therapy for a reason.

Basically my mental health isn't all that great. It's not a severe as other people, in fact in comparison, I'd say it was fairly tame. But it's still at a point where it would do me more harm if I wasn't in therapy. My mental health is at a fragile point that who knows where I'd be right now if I hadn't sought therapy. 

I feel as though my mental health is in the middle. It's not severe yet at the same time, it's not all that simple.

Let me put it this way: I've been in therapy at the Psychology Clinic for over a year now. Recently my therapist asked me if I was planning on continuing therapy when I moved back home. If she didn't think I'd be ok without therapy or didn't need it anymore, I don't think she would have asked.  She obviously thinks I'd do better to continue therapy; that I need to continue.

However at the same time, my problems aren't that fragile or that high-priority that my last therapist couldn't give me up as a client. She had to make choices and I'm sure while it wasn't easy to let my case go she had other clients that were at a point where it would have done more harm to have them switch therapists. Perhaps she felt that I was someone who could adjust to the switch without too many problems. Maybe she might even have had a part in recommending who to take on my case when she couldn't this semester.

My mental health issues are real. Completely real. I can't just "get over them". These are things that aren't all that simple to fix. Obviously my problems are more complex since I'm still in therapy even after all this time. My problems weren't something that could be fixed with short-term counseling since they recommended me to the Psychology Clinic. Instead of only taking a semester it's taken me over a year and longer. 

"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

This is all happening in my head and yes, it is real. What's inside my head is completely real.

Revealing Secrets: More thoughts

I feel as though I've been blogging so much about therapy and counseling and topics involving the two that I'm starting to come off as annoying.

I've been doing a lot of thinking since yesterday's session. I revealed a lot to my therapist and now I'm feeling a bit of guilt over what I did reveal.

I know I talked about this a lot yesterday but I'm still thinking about it today. It hasn't gone away.

The thing is that I feel that perhaps my therapist might think it sounds like I might have been abused a bit as a child. Maybe looking at it now, it could be considered to be a bit abusive what happened. But the thing is that I don't see it as such.  I mean I still cringe thinking about the punishment but I know the reasoning behind what brought on the punishment. Basically it wasn't an unjust punishment.

There were legitimate reasons for me receiving the punishment I did. I messed up big time and therefore I had to be punished and for me, this happened to be the punishment.
It wasn't the punishment for every single thing I did. But if I did something major in terms of messing up, this was the punishment received.

The punishment wasn't something that just happened. It happened for a reason. It wasn't like I was punished like this every single day. I didn't get punished like this for spilling something or breaking something on accident.

I'm also a bit concerned that I made my father sound like he was very unsupportive of me as a child; like he was disappointed with me. Again though, it's not the case.

Yes, I know he was disappointed with the fact that neither my brother nor I not even my nephew turned out to be athletes. He was into sports and athletics growing up. He was a Physical Education teacher for 32 years at the Elementary schools. Unfortunately, none of us shared the same enjoyment of sports he did. None of us were interested in sports. None of us turned out to be very athletic like he was.

But I didn't sense this disappointment as a child. I don't ever really remember feeling it so much. I'm not saying that I never felt like I was a disappointment to my dad because I wasn't in sports. What I'm saying is that it wasn't something that bothered me until I grew older and starting looking back at things. Basically it's something I've been giving a lot more thought since being in therapy. Trying to figure out some possible causes for some of my problems.

There was also the fact that my dad did comment a few times on my weight growing up. He still comments on it. I've generally been happy with my weight. I'm healthy. My doctors haven't been too concerned with my weight and neither have I.  I'm not terribly overweight but I'm not skinny. I'm average. I'm not athletic or into exercising a lot. But I don't eat a lot of bad food; I eat pretty healthily actually and while I don't exactly exercise, I do move around. Plus I do a bit of walking.

Again though, I feel like I've made my dad out to be emotional abuse but again, he's not.

The truth is that growing up as a child, I felt loved. I felt like my parents were generally proud of me and supportive of me. They were concerned for me. I struggled with friendships and with some school subjects and my parents were there for me. They tried to help me. When I was being picked on at the Recreation Center and would come home miserable, they didn't ignore me. They went and talked to the counselors there and got things straightened out. Whenever I struggled in school or was misbehaving they'd talk to the teacher and get things worked out. I don't ever remember feeling scared or neglected or abused in any sense.

The only time I was ever scared of my father was when I got into big trouble at school. I  knew what punishment I was going to get and that's what scared me.  Sure my father was stricter than my mother and I learned that at a young age but still I loved my dad a lot. It wasn't until I grew much older that I began really looking back at everything and realizing all this.

There is something I didn't really tell my therapist yesterday when telling her about the punishment. She asked questions about it. She wanted to know more about it; what exactly it involved. I told her as much as I could remember: I remember laying on my parents bed already scared because I knew what was coming. I remember dreading my dad coming home. I remember my dad coming in and already I would be crying and felt scared so scared. I remember my mom telling my dad what I did and I remember hearing his footsteps coming down the hallway; the sound of him taking off his belt.  I remember just crying out and saying "No! No! No!" before he would spank me and while he was spanking me. It was awful. It didn't last long and he really didn't hit me that hard.

I'm pretty sure I had pants on whenever he would spank me but I can't be too sure. I remember having some sort of protection from the belt but what exactly I had on besides my underwear, I can't even be sure. It's painful just writing this down. It's a memory I'd rather repress if only I could.

My therapist asked me if he left any marks or anything when my dad would spank me with his belt. At the time I told her nothing physically, emotionally though yes. But afterwards, I got to thinking more  about it and I realized there were some marks if even just temporary. I remember my bottom  stinging and being sore. I remember there would be red marks from where the belt had hit me. But all this was temporary and went away. Usually by the next day, everything was fine. I can't ever remember having bruises from where I was spanked by the belt.

I'll probably mention all this to my therapist next week. I feel like I need to tell her now. I feel like I need to explain more.  It sounds horrible but it's the truth. It's how it was. 

Again, it makes it sounds like my dad was a terrible person but I can assure you he wasn't. I loved my dad as a child and I still love him now. Though it can't be denied that our relationship isn't as close as it could be and this being probably one of the reasons why.

I do feel as though he expect a lot of me though. Like he expects me to be someone I'm not; do things I don't want to do and that he is disappointed because I'm not.  Again though, this is only as I've gotten older; become an adult, that I've felt like this.

The thing that still gets me is that my parents were punished the same way as children and yet they seem to have turned out ok. Yet my brother and I both have had mental health issues. My brother more so than me but obviously I have some problems too otherwise I wouldn't be in therapy right now. I'm starting to think that both of us were just more sensitive to such things. Perhaps both of us were just sensitive children and this type of punishment had a greater impact on us. Or at least on me it seems. I've just come to accept that I'm probably just a highly sensitive person. 

I've just been thinking a lot about this. I'm realizing just how much perhaps I've been influenced by what my parents did while raising me. 

Relief

That about sums up how I'm feeling right now. Just a huge sense of relief right now.

I feel lighter; a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.  I feel happier than I've felt perhaps in weeks. I just feel so much better emotionally. It's just such a wonderful feeling.

So today was another therapy session and I feel like progress was made today. I revealed some things to my therapist that I've struggled to mention to her before. Things that I revealed in a blog post last week. Writing it down seemed to help a lot. It made it much easier to tell her.

It was still extremely difficult to tell her and it was painful to talk about but I still told her. I even took the advice of my friend. With her encouragement and advice, I was finally able to reveal this part of myself to my therapist.

I felt like it opened things up for her. It felt like I had revealed such a big part of myself to her.  It feels as though things came together for her. That things began to make much more sense. It explains so much about why things are the way they are now.

Our session began today by me just telling her that I feel like there's just a lot on my mind. Too much pressure going on. Too much happening all at once. How I've just been feeling tired; dejected and a bit annoyed by family.

But then she wanted to pick up from where we left off last week and that's when I just had to tell her.
I told her I'd thought about it and finally I just told her. It was extremely difficult revealing this information to her. It caused me emotional pain talking about it. I told her that I still cringe thinking about it.

This led to us talking more about my family. It was difficult talking about such things. But my therapist understood. She understood some of my fears and feelings about things. She understood that it was hard talking about certain things.

I find it hard to blame my parents for what they did but at the same time, it's hard not to blame them for some of my problems. They did the best they could as parents. They were punished similarly to how they punished my brother and I.  But they did mess up and it's hard to admit that (or as my therapist put it "It's hard to admit they f'd up!* My therapist made me smile when she said this.She managed to get a laugh out of me which made me feel so much better).

At least she understood though; how difficult talking about family is; bringing family into the discussion.  She understood that how difficult it is for me to admit that perhaps how my parents raised me is partly to blame for my problems. I know there are things my parents did that have impacted me now. I even told her that I'm comforted by the fact that my older brother also has some problems too. I think I was basically trying to point out that perhaps the way my parents raised us has a lot to do with the way both of us are now. Perhaps I was just trying to point out that it wasn't just me having problems.

Really though, today's session was just so powerful I felt. I felt like I was finally being honest with her. Like this was the last bit of me that I was holding back from her and now that I've told her, there's nothing left holding me back. I feel like being honest with her, makes me fully trust her now.  I even told her some other things I hadn't told her before. I basically just revealed a lot today and I feel as though it told her a lot about me and just helped clarify things.

She even asked me at the end of our session, how I felt and I just told her that I felt relief. I felt better now that I was honest with her. She told me how proud she was of me because she knew none of this was easy for me to reveal.

I just feel great right now. It feels wonderful to finally have revealed that information to her. It helps her further help me too now that there's really nothing I'm holding back from her now. Together we can finally start putting things back together; start trying to make sense of everything.

If only we had more time. Unfortunately though, we only have 2 more sessions this semester.

My therapist did ask if I was planning on seeking therapy back home which answers one of the questions I've been secretly asking myself. She does think I should continue with therapy which makes me happy to hear that. It reassures me that I should continue. It reassures me that it would be a good idea for me to continue.

I told her I wasn't sure if I would continue when I was back home since I'm not sure I could find someone, but that I did intend to continue wherever I eventually ended up. We're going to talk more about this in one of our last two sessions.

Technically I've seen a counselor back home once already and she did help me but at the same time, I'm not sure if I'd want to return to her specifically.  I feel like I need to find someone similar to my therapist now. Someone like the counselors/therapists I've seen while here at UNT.  Specifically, I think I'd want someone like both my therapists at the Psychology Clinic have been. I mentioned how I'm pretty sure the type of therapy I'm in is called psychotherapy, this means that when looking for another therapist, this is probably what I need to focus on in order to get a therapist that's similar to what I have now.  I just think they'll be better for me. So far, they seem to have been better for me.

Really though, in terms of my session this week. I just feel so much relief. So much better. This week's session just helped me so much emotionally.

*I don't normally curse as I've said before and normally I'm not too fond of other people cursing but this time was so much different. It doesn't make me see her as less credible or anything because she said that. It didn't bother me at all this time. I feel as though it honestly was the best description she could've used. Even thinking about it now, I'm still not bothered by it. Perhaps a little shocked initially by her saying it but not bothered by it at all.*

First counseling session: thoughts

My previous post got me thinking about my very first counseling session at Oklahoma State. I didn't blog about it or even write about it as far as I can tell. I honestly thought I wrote about my first session somewhere but I can't find it if I did.

However, I did at least make note of when my first session was in a planner. I found the planner I kept during my Senior year as an Undergrad and sure enough, it was noted in my planner.

I said how it was a nervous breakdown that led me to seek counseling in the first place. I just had a breakdown after class one day and it was so bad that I started hyperventalating. I got light-headed and a little bit dizzy.

I honestly think it was the coursework that got to me. It was terrible. I was already warned something like this could happen. I was hoping that it wouldn't but it did.  Soon after my own nervous breakdown I saw another of my classmates who looked like she'd had a nervous breakdown too.

It frightened me. It really did. I should have gone to the Counseling Center during my breakdown, I really should have but I didn't think about it until afterwards.

Still though it scared me and I was concerned that it could happen again. That it would only get worse as the semester went on. I didn't want it to happen again so I sought counseling. I knew it was probably the only way I'd make it through the rest of the semester. I knew I needed help and since I had no family around there to help me, this was the best option.

According to my planner. My first session took place at 1:00PM on Friday September 25, 2009. I'm pretty sure this was my intake session. I don't remember much except being extremely nervous. This was the first time I'd really ever sought counseling. It was scary for me but I also remember feeling a bit hopeful. I remember feeling like I could be helped.

I knew I had to do this though. I knew I needed help. I knew I could no longer handle things on my own. The nervous breakdown was proof of that.

I remember showing up early and filling out paperwork and then waiting. I remember a graduate student came and got me and took me back to a room where we sat in some computer-type chairs. I remember her asking me a bunch of questions and me answering them. I know she asked me "why I'd sought counseling" and telling her about my nervous breakdown. I remember getting very emotional and breaking down in tears telling her some information. She took a lot of notes and wrote a lot of information down on a notepad. 

That's really all I can remember about the Intake session there at Oklahoma State. It was very similiar to the intake session here at the Psychology Clinic. Another grad student took me back to one of the rooms,asked me a bunch of questions which I answered, and took a lot of notes.

I remember the Counseling Center calling me later after the intake session and telling me the name of my counselor and setting up a time for me to begin my first session. I think my counselor's name was Chris and my sessions were on Fridays at 1PM. That was the only day I was free since the rest of the week, I was busy with my Elementary Education classes.

I don't remember much else about my sessions there other than I went almost every Friday until at least November 13, 2009. I was in counseling for about 7 out of my 12 session max.

I got emotional during my sessions then too so it's nothing new.

I know we talked about a lot of things both academic and non-academic. I'm certain that some of the same stuff discussed is being discussed again in my sessions. So basically many of my problems now, have been ongoing for quite some time.

I remember that my counselor got me back to a place where I'd at least be ok handling things on my own for awhile. I also remember being a bit nervous about leaving but they seemed to have done all they could do to help me for the time being. I know they asked me up front if I thought that I no longer needed them and I remember saying that I think I'd be ok to stop seeing them. I knew there were things we could still discuss but I remember feeling like I'd be ok to stop counseling for the time.

They did say that if I needed to come back, I could but I never did. I was somehow able to go without them. I'm not entirely sure how but I was. Things were certainly better after I started going to counseling although not perfect. Even after I stopped going, things were still a bit of a challenge but somehow I managed.

I thought perhaps I might go back during the Spring 2010 semester but I never did and quite honestly I didn't have the time with Student Teaching going on.  I had some struggles then too but again, somehow I survived.

In fact it seems like I've managed to survive for so long. Even before I first sought counseling, I had struggles. Yet here I am still standing strong.  Still fighting.

It makes me think of lyrics from the Elton John song "I'm still standing"

Don't you know I'm still standing better than I ever did
Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid
I'm still standing after all this time

Somehow I haven't given up and have continued to keep fighting despite everything.  I mentioned how my therapist last semester said that I inspired her.I guess this is why. She was inspired by how even after everything I've been through, I'm still fighting.

She also mentioned during one of my sessions how through everything she can hear that I'm a fighter and that I haven't given up. Even when I've felt like giving up somehow I haven't. I'm still fighting.

I still have hope and I guess that's why I'm in therapy. Because I still have hope that things will get better for me.

Therapy/Counseling Talk

My mind has been thinking a lot this week. Most of it is things I've already mentioned previously. Also a lot of what's been on my mind is preparing  myself for telling my therapist something on Wednesday.

Basically my mind hasn't stopped thinking about things. It's constantly thinking about them and never seems to really stop. Even at night sometimes.  There's just far too much going on with my thoughts right now. A lot of looping of my thoughts.

This post is mostly just me emptying my thoughts and isn't very interesting. It's rather random. But if you want to read, go for it.

So like I've already said,  in addition to mentally preparing myself for telling my therapist on Wednesday, I've just been doing a lot of thinking about therapy/counseling in general.

After my session last week, I went over to the Student Counseling and Testing Center to see if they would be willing to transfer my records over to the Psychology Clinic. I went to the center twice last year before they recommended me to the Psychology Clinic.  They had me sign a form authorizing them to release my records.  According to them, my last counselor there would most likely have the records over to the clinic by the beginning of this week. So probably tomorrow or Tuesday.  He is just that quick with getting that information together is what they said.

Which is great news I think. If my counselor is as quick as they said he is, my therapist ought to have access to that information prior to my next session. That will give my therapist some more information. Although I'm not sure how much more it'll actually help her. Most of the stuff I talked about over at the other center has already been brought up again in my sessions at the Clinic.

Still though, it might be helpful. It might let her know what has been tried before in terms of helping me; what has and hasn't worked.

I'm doing this because I'm trying to consolidate all my counseling records in one place for easier access later. If I decide to seek another therapist wherever I eventually end up, they'll most likely want this information, therefore if I can get all the information in as few locations as possible, it'll be easier for them to get that information.

I already have all my records from therapy and counseling while here at UNT consolidated at the Psychology Clinic or at least I will hopefully after this week.   After all, out of all my counseling, I've been at the Clinic the longest it would make sense to have all my information sent there.

However, I don't have my records from counseling while I was at Oklahoma State. I only went during the Fall 2009 semester. I tried calling last week  and finding out if I could have them send the records to me and then take them to the clinic myself but they won't let me have access. They can only release the records directly to another clinic or doctor if I give them written permission. In order to do that I'd have to go in and sign a form. Unfortunately, I'm no longer living in the area and therefore I'd be unable to do that.  I didn't tell them this either because I'm not sure how it would work anyways.

I thought about going to the Psychology Clinic and signing a form to have the records sent to them. In other words, given written consent for OSU counseling to release the records to them. However, I ultimately decided against it because of lack of time.

I'm in the process of moving right now. Well, trying to figure out where I'm going next and there's just not enough time for them to get that information before I leave. At least I don't think there is.
I only have 3 sessions left (2 after this week) and it's just not enough time I feel. I'm sure it would take just that long for OSU to get my records and send them to the Clinic. By the time the Clinic got the records, I would technically no longer be here. In other words, I'm not sure how much use it would be having me send the records over to them if I won't be going to sessions there  anymore.

The only thing it might do is give them more information for my file. I'm not even sure if my therapist right now would get that information in time before our sessions ended. If I'd thought about this earlier in the semester, I would have had more time. Now I'm not sure if it would be even worth the effort to try. I just recently thought about how much easier it would be if all my records were in one place.

The thing is though that I don't quite understand why the OSU Counseling Center won't release the records even to me. I mean, I would think I'd have access to that information. I was the one who went in there seeking counseling. I know what was discussed in my sessions and what was suggested by my counselor then.  I just think if it's me asking about my own records, I'd be able to access them! But no. They will only release information to another clinic or doctor with my written consent. I guess there's more to my records than I realized. Perhaps there are things that were written in my file that they don't want me to know about? I guess there's just things about my record that are too fragile to share even with me? Perhaps there's just certain information that even I'm not able to access or they have reasons they can't let me have access to my own records.

Yet at the same time I don't really understand it. When I asked the Counseling Center here about it, they didn't say I couldn't have access to my own records. Of course, I didn't specifically ask if I could get the information for myself. However, they did ask if I wanted to take the information over to the Clinic myself or if I'd rather have them just send it over.  I just told them to send the information directly over to them. Still though, it  almost sounded like they'd let me have access to the information myself if I wanted it and gave written consent.  After all, why would they ask me if I wanted to take the information over to the Clinic myself if they didn't think I wouldn't look at it. Then again, they might have put it in a sealed envelope that if I opened it before the Clinic got it, would cause problems.

I guess I'm just curious why some places won't let me have access to my own mental health records. I mean, I think I'd want to know what it says. I mean, I discuss a lot in my sessions but what does it all say about me? What do my counselors and therapists summarize in their reports?What is even included in such records? I'd really like to know. I'm sure they have records of my sessions. Like the dates and such and how many sessions.  Do they also have summaries of each session? Like what was discussed and what was suggested? Is there diagnostic information of things? Like do my records say something about social anxiety issues or struggles with a bit of depression?  It's just something I'm curious about.

With only about 3 sessions left this semester, I'm starting to get really worried again and wondering if I'm going to need to continue with therapy wherever I end up. I mean, I think I will need to. I think I should continue. But at the same time, I'm wondering if I really should? I wonder if I should ask my therapist what she thinks. If I could stay with her for another semester, I would but that's not possible. I mean, I already feel a bit bad about the fact that I'll be leaving her after only working with her for a semester. I mean, I had my previous therapist for an entire school year. But her, I've only had this semester.  Still, I wonder if I should just come right out and ask her what she thinks. If she thinks I should continue wherever I end up. I'm sure she'd tell me to continue on. My question is for how much longer? How much longer do I even need therapy? Will I ever be able to go without therapy again?

I mean I'm almost afraid to go without therapy now. I feel like my life is better with therapy and I know that once I get settled into a new place and a new career, my life won't magically get better. I know I probably will have new fears as well as some old ones. New problems might develop or some of my old problems may come back. I almost feel as though I'm using therapy because I don't know how to function without it anymore. It's helping me a great deal and I'm really afraid to go without it now.

It's almost like I'm scared for things to go back to normal and like I've said many times previously, sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be back to normal again; if I'll ever be "fixed" or right ever again. I wonder what "normal" is anymore. As it is, I often can't remember what it was even like before therapy.  Sometimes I wonder how I even survived so long without therapy.

My mind thinks a lot and can be extremely loud. 

Stupid

Stupid.

Inadequate.

This is the takeaway from today's therapy session. This is what I must also reflect on this week.

How many people have felt these way? My guess is pretty much everyone at some point in their lives. Who hasn't felt stupid or inadequate? 

The problem is that many of us know we aren't stupid but somehow we still believe we are.

This is me. I know I'm not stupid. I've certainly proven it enough through my education.  I'm about to graduate with a Master's degree! I should know I'm not stupid!!

Yet for some reason, I still think I am. I still don't believe I'm not.
 
This week's therapy session was a bit of a breakthrough moment for both me and my therapist. In fact, I even made her emotional at one point.

I managed to keep my emotions mostly in check this week at least until we started talking about me feeling inadequate and then I just lost it completely.

As always, a lot was discussed prior to this. I honestly can't remember what we were discussing exactly before we got to talking about feeling inadequate.

I just remember talking about so much: being scared of growing up; making decisions; finding a job; feeling pressured by family. Being afraid to find a job because I was afraid I'd be thrown into something and not know how to do it.

It was at this point, my therapist asked about if there was a time where I was thrown into something and didn't know what to do which led me to bring up my School Library class in which she asked me to talk more about it.  I just remember talking about it. Telling her how I struggled with it. Telling her how everyone else was in the School Library program and I wasn't. Telling her I felt like I was just thrown into something that I really didn't understand. I basically was telling her that I felt inadequate but not saying it directly and brushing over that fact. At some point, I was just talking about it when she stopped me and asked me  if I felt like I was inadequate. She had noticed that I  just brushed over the fact. That I didn't exactly say I felt inadequate so she asked me directly.  I lost it. It hurt to admit that I did feel inadequate; that I felt stupid. I did feel like I was stupid. That was exactly how the class made me feel. I often said I felt stupid during the course of taking the class.

Hearing my therapist say it to me; point it out to me; was hard and I think that's really why I lost it. It was just really hard to admit that. It's always been hard for me to admit feeling stupid even though I've most certainly felt it. I've said it to myself too but it's different hearing someone say it to you and to understand where you're coming from; read between the lines essentially, it's just a little overwhelming.

It really hurt to say I felt stupid but it got me thinking about other times I've felt like this.  I'm supposed to reflect and think about this. To be honest, I've already been thinking about this a lot since after our session. It's come to my attention that in reality, I think I've almost always felt stupid. Not all the time of course but when I struggled at something I certainly did.

For instance, when I had trouble with Math in school, I felt stupid because I just wasn't getting it. I remember being in 2nd grade and taking timed addition and subtraction tests, I never did very well.
I  had to count my fingers which slowed me down. I did that a lot and still do sometimes when I have to add or subtract.  I didn't have addition and subtraction facts down. It was mostly math class where I struggled and often I did feel stupid. Especially when I could see other classmates getting the concept but not me.

Then there's the time in High School where I struggled with European History AP. I just could not get the dates and information  to stick in my brain for tests. Especially when we had to write essays for the tests. Again, I felt stupid because I'd see other people doing well but not me.

Could this be the reason I try so hard to do well? Because I want to prove I'm not stupid? Is that also why I'm so afraid of failing? Because I'm afraid people will think I'm stupid if I do fail?

I've never really considered this possibility. It's something that has been brought up as a possibility before but I've brushed it off a bit. I just didn't think it was really something to consider but perhaps it has more to do with it than I originally thought. I've feel like I've been searching for something more concrete. But what if this is the whole reason for things being the way they are?

I've mentioned that I was picked on as a kid and how the other girls in my girl scout troop often left me out of things. Could this be why? Because they thought I was stupid? Did perhaps at some point someone call me stupid and I felt that I had to prove to them I wasn't? Was there a point during the times I was picked on that someone called me stupid and did I just eventually come to believe it after awhile even though I knew I wasn't?

Again,  I've been searching for something more concrete to explain my problems. Some sort of specific incident that could have led me to where I am now. Yet, what if there really is nothing concrete. What if it's just this? That I was called stupid at some point by someone being mean to me. Did it just happen so much that I eventually start believe it and retaliate by working harder to prove I wasn't? Could it just really be that simple of a solution?

And yet, there is that question: If it's so simple how and why did it cause such a problem for me? Many people have been called stupid. Many people have been picked on. If this is really the answer, then why did I react so differently? Why am I now struggling so much with being afraid of failing?

Could this really be the answer I've been searching for? Did something like this subconsciously impact me and I didn't realize it until now?

I've searched and searched and I've come up empty for a concrete solution.

I know I'm not stupid and yet, I guess I sometimes still feel like I am.