By Cheryl H. //
“You are in shock,” she said gently. I let the words sink in and found myself speechless. A wave of relief washed over me; I felt the familiar tightness in my chest followed by tears rising predictably in my eyes and flowing down my cheeks. I had promised myself I wouldn’t cry.
Malini was a homely looking lady with the kindest eyes – she looked like she belonged in the kitchen instead of this shoebox of a psychotherapist’s office in the heart of the business district. Brightly coloured furniture and warm colour tones clashed with the cold steel and glass façade of the building and created a cosy living room-like space. I grabbed one of the soft ethnic print cushions and hugged it close as she invited me to sit down. I felt an immediate connection to her. The scent of jasmine filled the air.
Two years after a traumatic loss turned my world belly up, I found myself still struggling to manage the grief that was threatening to engulf me. Feeling embarrassed to impose on my well-meaning and tirelessly patient family and friends, I walked on thin ice every day, alternating between hardened resolve one day and anxiety-filled hysteria the next. I soldiered on. “Time heals all wounds”, “be strong” and “accept and let go” were the mantras I repeated to myself. Yet the grief still cut deep and, even years later, I would find myself sobbing inconsolably and without warning – sometimes while having a shower, driving or even mid-conversation.
I knew that I needed help but had resisted the idea of therapy for a long time. The word “therapy,” or worse, “psychotherapy” filled me with fear. Where would I begin? How would I trust a stranger to understand and help me?
Not knowing where to turn, I sent a desperate text to a friend, a strong advocate for therapy as she herself had benefited from it. She forwarded Malini’s email address to me and encouraged me to reach out to her. Malini had responded very quickly but she had an extremely tight schedule and was not sure she could accommodate me for the long term. She was, however, willing to see me and we could see how things panned out. Although tempted to give up, I grit my teeth, moved my schedule around and confirmed the appointment.
And so there I was, ensconced on her bright yellow sofa, a box of tissues placed strategically on the side table. Next to it, a small clock trying its best to look inconspicuous. The session went swimmingly, and I was eager to make my next appointment. Malini was apologetic but firm: in her opinion I needed one to two years of therapy and she would only take me on if I could commit to her only available slot – an early weekday morning. I couldn’t do it as it would mean adjusting my work schedule. It wasn’t going to work out and I felt defeated. She promised to send me the names of a couple of other therapists after checking on their availability.
There would be two more therapists before I found THE ONE. With hindsight, it was very much like going on blind dates, looking for that chemistry and connection, not knowing what to expect. On one occasion, I knew immediately that it was not the right match when I found the therapist justifying her exorbitant fees unprompted. It took three sessions for me to decide not to continue with one of them – some things just can’t be “forced” and I felt that I was putting in too much effort. Of course, there were also more practical concerns: therapy is notoriously pricy, and I had to find one that met my budget. If it reached a point where I would be viewing minutes as dollars, constantly watching the clock, how would I be able to focus on putting my heart and soul into the sessions?
Thankfully my search ended when I met Julia. A lovely, calm and spiritual lady, she knew exactly how to gently prise out the tangled mess of emotions I was carrying around while giving me much needed validation for the way I felt. I am very much still a work in progress but feel confident that Julia will hold my hand as I continue working on my “masterpiece” – me.
Cheryl is a volunteer writer for The Tapestry Project SG. She firmly believes that therapy is for everyone, regardless of whether one has a mental health diagnosis or not.
To read more of our Tapestry stories, click here.
Image Credit: Dreamstime