I have been a long-time advocate for therapy and mental health support. I’ve heard (American) people say that therapy is a brain/mind workout- something that can keep your mind healthy, not just something to turn to when things get tough. Ironically though, I’d never actually been to therapy myself. Aside from the occasional therapy ranting/gossip sesh with my friends, I don’t tend to share many of my deeper thoughts and issues.
This semester, I am taking a Basic Counselling Skills class and have been learning a lot about mental health and counselling. And so, I thought, why not take advantage of free mental health services? Especially in a place where no one knows me or my family. Still, it was easier said than done. I hadn’t realized how much internalized stigma I had around therapy until it was my turn to go. It took a lot of procrastination but I finally managed to sign up for my first-ever session.
I don’t know what outcome I expected from talking to a stranger for less than an hour. Like every other social interaction I initiate, I worried it might be awkward. I feared they would dig too deeply into my life. I half-thought I might experience some grand epiphany that would answer all my life questions. But spoiler alert: nothing of the sort happened happened. The session was about 40 minutes, mostly for intake and evaluation.
The therapist, an African American woman, seemed kind, but I couldn’t immediately find much common ground between us. The first ten minutes were mostly her telling me about her credentials, and we covered confidentiality. She mentioned she’d be taking notes, and the sound of typing didn’t exactly help me relax. Still, I asked if I could take notes, too—she looked surprised but agreed. I explained that I wanted to reflect on the session later. I am not sure if she was convinced but she did not say no.
I could feel my guard up the entire time. I can barely put my most vulnerable thoughts into my own diary, let alone a stranger. I also knew that I was probably the first and maybe the only Bhutanese she would meet, and as irrational as it was, I was worried that I would misrepresent the population. I talked about my fears around graduating and the pressure of going back home. I had voiced this out a couple of times in my counselling class- where we often do check-ins, so it really wasn’t too difficult to share.
She asked the typical questions about self-harm, depression, and anxiety. I understood she needed to ask, but I had two conflicting worries: that I might be diagnosed with something I didn’t know I had or that I didn’t have enough reason to seek therapy in the first place.
Throughout the session, I felt like I needed to have the “right” answer- something drilled into me from years of the Bhutanese education system. I also found myself “Americanizing” my responses, simplifying things to avoid the hassle of explaining cultural nuances.
I like to think I’m pretty mindful—after all, I journal, meditate, and prioritize self-care. But as I did mention to her, I tend to disassociate whenever things go wrong. I’d always thought this defense mechanism was a strength of mine but I am not so sure anymore. When I shared that with her, she asked if I meant I wanted to find more effective coping strategies. I nodded yes when in fact, that wasn’t the same at all.
At the end, she suggested we do bimonthly or monthly meetings. I honestly envisioned this being a one-time thing but seeing as to how I am graduating in a month and being a sucker for free things, I felt I should take advantage of this opportunity. Through this, I hope to become more self-aware and pick up some handy counselling skills along the way.
All in all, I don’t know if therapy is for me but I won’t know until I try. This was just an intake session so I can’t draw any conclusions yet. However, I did realize some things about myself just from this one session — like how my nerves made my legs shake throughout the session while putting up a front to represent Bhutan well in front of someone who just wanted to get to know me.
I am realizing I may need a lot longer than a month of therapy to unravel these issues of mine.
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