September 2017
Costa Mesa, CA
Why is there always such a negative association with people needing, wanting or going to therapy? I don’t know. But when not going turns into unloading (exploding) on our family and friends with moments (outbursts) of emotion that are catastrophic in size and sometimes volume, is that really the best version of you? Or you know crying the entire 2 hour solo drive from San Diego to OC, is probably not the “you” you want to project to others? Maybe overcoming your fears of “therapy” and just going is worth it. It was for me.
My dad had cancer and accepting that was really hard. Moving back to my parents home after being on my own for college and 1 year into my career, was hard. Fighting with my sister again all the time was hard. But for the time I had left with him, I was managing, because for me he was always the easiest person to talk to, for all of us honestly… When my busy season sucked and this senior I had that just didn’t have the time of day to help me, got me down, he was there to listen. Even when I was getting home at 1 or 2 am from work, he was there to listen and talk some sense into what the world meant, offer advise or sometimes what I needed more, a distraction.
But then all of sudden he was gone. And in that moment for the foreseeable future I decided I needed to be strong for my mom and my sister. I needed to be that person they could talk to, I didn’t want to project my sadness on them, they needed someone more than I did. I put that unnecessary pressure on myself, pressure to never let them see me cry about how much I missed him, how much it hurt that he was gone. How much it hurt that my best friend’s dad was also going through a similar battle with cancer, but he was winning in that moment. So I cried in my car after work, I cried at night when I’d get home and just want him to be in his chair watching cops at 1am. I only let myself cry when they weren’t around.
I went to my best friend’s wedding in the summer of 2017 , where her dad wasn’t present and I cried the entire drive home, because it wasn’t going to be a choice for me when I got married, my dad wouldn’t/couldn’t physically be there. I cried a lot. Which shouldn’t be abnormal for someone who has experienced loss but it was very lonely only mourning him alone, because I was trying to hold myself together for my family.
After that emotional car ride, I decided to look at resources my work offered, and once again I have to say I have an amazing employer that offers free resources for a series of therapy appointments annually. Had I ever heard anyone talk about the resources before the HR rep informed me of them when he passed away? No. No, therapy wasn’t the highlight of the benefits package they try to sell you on when you’re a college student looking for a job. But there it was, and I was grateful.
My first experience with my chosen therapist was awful at best. The resource my firm offers lets you categorize the reason you were visiting in order to match you with a therapist best equipped to help you. Easy, I was dealing with a loss, and there were plenty of therapists on that list, I found one close to work and booked an appointment. I encourage you to research your therapist, if for no other reason to realize that she specialized in pet loss, not human loss. This was not something that was clear going into my session, and when I mentioned to her the things that had happened that last year, which included the loss of my grandmother dog’s Mindy, she latched onto that when I (at least in my mind) had clearly stated that I was here because I lost my dad. And do not get me wrong I loved Mindy, but her loss was a drop in tiny glass in comparison to the ocean of a loss that was my dad. I left frustrated and upset, I was really ready to give up, but even though I didn’t feel heard in that first session, talking to someone about it out loud (not just in my head or crying in the car) felt good. So I found a different therapist, and called my work to help me get back the extra session that was wasted on someone who just didn’t understand why I was there.
So I went, I talked, and I went back and it felt better.
I still cry, I cry at weddings when the bride dances with her father and I cry when certain songs come on the radio ( “Even though I’m leaving”- Luke Combs and “You should be here” -Cole Swindell). I miss him when it is one of our birthdays, I cry when I read the letter he wrote us. I’ve never felt as small and humbled as the first time I went snorkeling without him in Hawaii, But I don’t cry alone in my car and I know that I don’t have to hide it from my mom and sister anymore.
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