I’ll be the first to admit that I?ve always had very antiquated views of therapy. I thought it was an expensive health insurance add-on that people only used after going through traumatic experiences. Mental health was rarely brought up in my family of mostly women. We never talked about our problems; we pretended they didn?t exist or just dealt with them on our own. My mother did an excellent job of shielding my siblings and me from any hardships she went through. So, if you’d told me a year ago that therapy would become one of the most important things in my life, I probably would have laughed at you.
For me, 2017 began with a laundry list of resolutions: Find a new job, redecorate my apartment, write a play, read more books, lose 10 pounds, go back to church? the list goes on. I love being busy. For as long as I can remember, idle time equated to laziness. If I slept in one too many hours or couldn?t solve problems on my own, I felt I was falling short of the (unrealistic) expectations I set for myself. But the older I got, the more these ingrained habits and beliefs led to debilitating anxiety attacks and mornings where I could barely peel myself out of bed. I was an overachiever, but incredibly unhappy because the activities I filled my schedule with were the equivalent of empty calories: pointless and harmful. If you’d told me a year ago that therapy would be one of the most important things in my life, I would have laughed.

I certainly didn?t have ...