I grew up in a household where we all took care of ourselves & therapy? That was for crazy people. We didn’t need anybody knowing our business, in fact, it was best to never speak about unpleasant things. Burry them deep & pretend it doesn’t exists.
But it’s been almost three years since my first therapy session & I can’t tell you how great it feels.
How great it feels to have someone actually listen, rather than being told I had nothing to be depressed over, I was blessed.
How great it feels to have actual answers, versus being told I just needed to pray harder.
I was always strong. I was always grateful. I attended a church I loved. & yet, I always struggled. I’d spend all day smiling with my family & friends, only to come home to cry myself to sleep.
And it wasn’t until I started therapy that I found an explanation to what I’ve been feeling all these years. I wasn’t a sinner, being punished. I’m not weak for asking for help. & I’m not crazy for wanting to undo what my mind had to learn to do, to protect itself.
Anxiety & depression, it exists. & to pretend it doesn’t, hurts everyone in the end.
I hope I can encourage people to seek out someone that can help because we deserve to live beautifully. & maybe, even more so, to encourage others to be aware of the illnesses they can’t see.” @evva_g