Thanks, Therapy
CW: The following contains brief discussion of mental illness and suicide.
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To say the last nine months have been tumultuous would be a significant understatement. I moved back to my parent’s house. I had to leave a job I loved. I briefly worked for a corporate food service vendor. I got and subsequently lost a research contract. I’ve applied for probably upwards of 500 jobs.
My anxiety and depression reached new depths. I had suicidal episodes. I spent ten days at in inpatient psychiatric hospital, and another two weeks in intense outpatient care. I’ve probably gone to a year’s worth of therapy in half the time. I changed therapists and psychiatrists.
Today I took the PTCB Certification Exam. Today could have gone better. I failed.
Objectively not the cheeriest list. It isn’t meant to be, but it isn’t a “woe is me” list either. Until recently these would have been personal and moral failings, proof that I’m a garbage human.
Thanks to the work I’ve done in therapy I recognize that these are simply statements. I am neither interested in nor willing to wallow. It is an intentional and conscious choice. My internal critic is livid and hurling the moral judgements: “You didn’t study enough/right.” “You did this in high school, you should be able to do it now.”
So, I am taking time to exercise self-compassion and reframe these experiences.
Once more, from the top:
The last nine months have been a season of profound change. I moved back to my parent’s house to help out as my dad recovered from major surgery. Our plan was for me to move out again at the end of the summer. When the money wasn’t there for that my parents were understanding. I haven’t had to couch surf.
I had a job that I loved. The people, the work, the company. All of it. I gained experience, learned new ideas and skills, and made connections I wouldn’t have otherwise. However briefly, I have been able to find work after leaving the aforementioned job. I’ve been able to dedicate massive amounts of time to job hunting because I don’t pay rent to my parents.
I’ve been able to put a lot of work into my mental health in the last few years. When I bottomed out, I had the self-awareness to recognize it. I have a community of people who deeply care about me. Also, even though I don’t have a full-time job I have affordable health insurance. Thanks, Obama! On top of that, my plan has great Behavioral and Mental Health benefits that makes therapy affordable.
Today didn’t go to plan. I could have used different study tools. I could have studied more. But, did I walk into that test unprepared? No. Did I try my best? Yes. “You did this in high school,” really? It has been nearly a decade since I worked in a pharmacy. There’ve been a few changes since then. It may not be cheap, but I can allow myself time to properly study and take the test again. It’s less than ideal, but thanks to much of what’s outlined above, it isn’t the end of the world.
I give therapy, and my therapists (old and new), 5 stars.
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