first visit to therpist...
I was always afraid of therapy. Just the word sounded like I had failed in some way. Part of that fear was fear of the unknown. I thought I would share the experience for those who want to seek help, but are afraid to take that step.
I believe coming here helped me more than I can say. It had taken away some of the shame I used to feel, by showing me many others have gone through the same thing. I knew I had gone as far on my own as I could, and that I needed help to move forward. My wife was urging me to seek help, and I finally broke down.
Doing a search on this site, I found one of the leaders in the male survivor field was in my hometown. I contacted my HMOs mental health number to get authorized to see him. The process wasnt bad. They asked my ID and group info, and asked if I needed help locating a provider. It turned out the one I wanted to see was on that list. I gave them his name, and they gave me an authorization. They didnt ask why I needed to see him or anything. I was afraid they would ask me all sorts of stuff, but it wasnt that way.
Sharing my story here, and with a few other sites, I became more comfortable talking openly about what happened. I believe that was important, because it made it easier to face him with it. I promised myself that I was going to be assertive, and was going to speak my mind when I saw him. I would be paying for his time, and I vowed to make the most of it.
I wrote my story in my journal to organize my thoughts, and was really looking forward to seeing him. I looked at it as a chance to finally move ahead and get my life straight. This doesnt have to be a bad thing if you dont see it that way.
My appointment came, and I would be lying if I said I wasnt nervous. They had me fill out forms like I had filled out at any doctor I have visited. I gave them a copy of my authorization letter and insurance card. Then waited to see the doctor.
He asked me why I had come to see him, and I began by telling him about our last fight and that I was struggling with depression and fits of anger. I told him how I had blown up at the kids over taco shells. He pointed out that kids have one job, to test boundaries to see if you love them.
Our session had these long pauses where I guess I was waiting on him. He let me stew until I threw out a little more. Before I knew what happened, I had spilled it all. I kept telling myself that he had heard it all, seen it all, and was there to help me. I kept firing away, weaving my story. In hindsight, the thing that strikes me funny is that I did the lions share of the talking, and he did a whole lot of listening. When he did say something, it was usually something I hadnt thought of before.
I am glad I went, and look forward to going again. I feel this is my chance to set things right, and Im going after it with all I have.
I believe coming here helped me more than I can say. It had taken away some of the shame I used to feel, by showing me many others have gone through the same thing. I knew I had gone as far on my own as I could, and that I needed help to move forward. My wife was urging me to seek help, and I finally broke down.
Doing a search on this site, I found one of the leaders in the male survivor field was in my hometown. I contacted my HMOs mental health number to get authorized to see him. The process wasnt bad. They asked my ID and group info, and asked if I needed help locating a provider. It turned out the one I wanted to see was on that list. I gave them his name, and they gave me an authorization. They didnt ask why I needed to see him or anything. I was afraid they would ask me all sorts of stuff, but it wasnt that way.
Sharing my story here, and with a few other sites, I became more comfortable talking openly about what happened. I believe that was important, because it made it easier to face him with it. I promised myself that I was going to be assertive, and was going to speak my mind when I saw him. I would be paying for his time, and I vowed to make the most of it.
I wrote my story in my journal to organize my thoughts, and was really looking forward to seeing him. I looked at it as a chance to finally move ahead and get my life straight. This doesnt have to be a bad thing if you dont see it that way.
My appointment came, and I would be lying if I said I wasnt nervous. They had me fill out forms like I had filled out at any doctor I have visited. I gave them a copy of my authorization letter and insurance card. Then waited to see the doctor.
He asked me why I had come to see him, and I began by telling him about our last fight and that I was struggling with depression and fits of anger. I told him how I had blown up at the kids over taco shells. He pointed out that kids have one job, to test boundaries to see if you love them.
Our session had these long pauses where I guess I was waiting on him. He let me stew until I threw out a little more. Before I knew what happened, I had spilled it all. I kept telling myself that he had heard it all, seen it all, and was there to help me. I kept firing away, weaving my story. In hindsight, the thing that strikes me funny is that I did the lions share of the talking, and he did a whole lot of listening. When he did say something, it was usually something I hadnt thought of before.
I am glad I went, and look forward to going again. I feel this is my chance to set things right, and Im going after it with all I have.
