Connecting with a therapist
On the day of my psychologist appointment, I contemplated canceling and trying to cope with things on my own. I was going through a rough patch with my anxiety and depression, and quite honestly, didn’t feel as through anything would make a difference. No one in this world understood what I was going through – what it was really like to suffer like this. My previous appointment had more than confirmed this.
I was in an emotional funk. Nothing really triggered it, I just felt unusually low, and the last thing I wanted, was to be evaluated for everything, except social anxiety. I eventually went, only because I had no other ideas. There was no next step. If I didn’t follow through with this, I would be lost for a backup plan. So, I dragged my sorry ass through the front door, anticipating disappointment.
I could probably write a few chapters on what happened next, but suffice it to say, I found a therapist that had such an understanding of social anxiety, it was scary. We connected right from the start. He didn’t try to steer me towards another ailment since he had such a good grasp of SA. In fact, during the sessions, it almost seemed as though he was finishing my thoughts for me. For lack of a better word, it was “refreshing” to finally talk to someone who understood – someone who related. That’s all I was really asking for, after all.
This individual was an expert in cognitive behavioral therapy. He also had a small support group consisting of fellow SA sufferers. It would be a while before I could participate in the group discussions, but it was always an option. I will admit that I was shocked to actually meet fellow social anxiety sufferers. I know the statistics say that 3-7 percent of the population suffers from this affliction, but to actually meet others that were like me, was quite an experience in itself.
The only caveat was that his services were not covered by our health-care plan, and my funds were limited. Just as I was ready to assume responsibility and get serious about beating this thing, something had to go and throw a wrench into the works - typical.
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