Hello you!
Before we dive in I wanted to remind you that Time to Bloom, our virtual co-working session (you can read more about it here) will be at 6pm Paris time this Sunday 7 July. The link is always the same. Looking forward to seeing you there.
It’s been three months since my last therapy session. The end of a seven year relationship.
My first book was dedicated to my therapist she had such a prolific effect on my life. I found her by accident in a waiting room for the chiropractor who was treating my shoulder pain. Her face smiled back at me from the profile photo on the wall and as I’d been listening to a lot of self-development podcasts, I felt the urge to give psychotherapy a try. She looked like someone I could talk to. Her office looked zen like, fresh smelling and clean - unlike the counsellors I’d seen back in school days.
In the beginning I’d see her once a fortnight. During my the worst mental health periods our sessions were twice a week. Then came my need for a break. Following PTSD like that I experienced after major trauma it’s often better to leave the victim alone for a while. This is a common approach for traumatised soldiers who come back from war and rape victims for example. Seeking talking therapy straight away can have negative effects. It’s far more beneficial to have pleasant experiences and let the waves subside naturally with time. When I started dating I knew I needed to go back. I want to insert a joke about French men putting me into therapy here but the truth is I felt out of my depth after being off the market for fifteen years and this was new territory to understand myself in. It only felt fair both to myself and to them that I had some guidance.
It’s only recently I felt I’d run into a wall with therapy, when it seemed the self-awareness light had been turned up to the brightest setting possible. I’d reached the point where I could observe myself, and still can, in every day life with an understanding of why I behave and feel the way I do. Patterns are clear to me and easy to trace back to the blueprint of past events. I know my triggers and I know how to care for myself. Most importantly I want to care for myself.
It was a fascinating experience in the early days, much like any new relationship. I’d come away each week with new breakthroughs, understandings and discoveries about myself as well as practical solutions to struggles like anxiety, low mood, work and relationship problems I was having. I learnt how to identify feelings and express them. Boundaries became part of my vocabulary and my confidence soared. I even began to like myself. Having a safe place to go and be my most vulnerable messy authentic self where I felt seen, heard and understood was priceless. The money is cost was dubbed an investment in myself and I considered it well spent.
Fast forward seven years and each session had turned into a fifty minute carousel ride ever more engraining my identity into stone. The more I carved it out the harder it was getting to shift.
I was aware of all my patterns and behaviours to the point where I knew the reasons why what had happened that week had happened before I logged into zoom and merely used our time to confirm this. Where I was struggling now was making the necessary changes. I found myself in the same position on repeat and therapy was no longer working as a catalyst for behavioural change. It just reaffirmed who I already was based on my past. But I didn’t want to be that person anymore. I wanted to grow and evolve past her. I was ready to let go, not justify.
The autistic diagnosis session seemed to be the final straw. I’d been thinking about quitting in the weeks building up to this but I didn’t want to stop because it was part of my routine and I wanted to be sure first. I wrote about how my autistic traits were highlighted in this post here if you’d like to read it. I’m still undecided as to whether I will go for an official diagnosis but my feeling of not wanting it to be another label remains, and that’s where I felt this would have gone in further therapy sessions. It was time to quit, say no to another identity check box and start rewiring my brain in new ways. The justification and validating was only going to reinforce more of the same behaviour, that which I wanted to change. The constant justification was becoming a hinderance and the possibility of choice began to open up. I wouldn’t be where I am now without therapy but there was a limit and this is where it lay for me.
Quitting wasn’t easy and I felt guilty about it to begin with. I think I’ve had a therapy addiction over the years. I’d turn to my weekly or bi-weekly (budget dependent) sessions for guidance, release and relief, which is ok, but it got to the point where I’d wait to make decisions. When I started at age twenty nine I never expected to stay in therapy for seven years. When I walked into her office and she asked the inevitable ‘so why are you here?’ question, I said I was struggling to make the leaps I wanted to in life. I shared how I’d considered getting a coach but felt there were things under the surface that needed dealing with and it would be out of their league. I also wanted guaranteed confidentiality. It was the right decision at the time. She guided me into the darkest parts of myself I had to face to set myself free. What to do with that freedom is where I’m navigating now.
Maybe I’ll go back one day. I’m not sure. For now I want to work on moving forwards, not looking back. It feels right to be trying new methods, learning about neuroscience and neuroplasticity. I don’t want to be poor traumatised Jess with autism. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with her, there isn’t - but I have a burning desire not to let my future be defined by my past and this identity seals my fate. It signs the permission slips I want it to sign on days where filming YouTube videos feels hard because I’m afraid for example. Cycles need to be broken. Identities need shifting and I have the courage I once lacked to do the work.
Since quitting it’s been a mixture of emotions. There’s the relief I feel, the joy over the extra money I can now use for other things but sometimes there’s a sense of longing for it. When I feel this, instead of booking a session immediately like I used to, I’m turning to other ways to regulate my nervous system. I know exactly what would be said during the session so never feel like I’m missing out on new information, just a guide to help me realise what actions to take in moments of distress. I find I’m able to do this for myself now in new ways. Yes I validate my feelings and unpick what’s underneath the trigger but then I remind myself these things aren’t happening anymore and I’m safe. A fifty minute guided meditation helps as much as my sessions did in the end and I prefer them because during I’m both letting go of past versions of myself and constructing new ones.
I’m enjoying non-fiction books about neuroscience and psychotherapy lately too. Each time medication was suggested I always refused. Instead I’ve opted for the likes of exercise, meditation and journaling, which form my morning routine as often as possible. I consider this my medication and without it I soon start to see a decline in my mental health. So there are other options available if you’re struggling with mental health - of course there are. These are my favourites.
Have I seen more progress since quitting? Yes, I think I have and I certainly haven’t felt any regression. If I did I would go back. There definitely comes a point when it’s time to stop going around and around. We have to stand still, and move forwards. The realisations are still coming through thick and fast which is what I find most interesting. I think once we have a foundational awareness we can fly the nest and use the tools we’ve learned to charter our course from here on out.
Have you tried therapy? What was your experience? Looking forward to hearing your stories.
Lots of love
Jessica xxx
LOVE this post Jessica. Super insightful. I did a short course of CBT therapy after a difficult time in my life. I found it helping to a point; understanding why I was reacting in certain ways, the science behind different behaviours etc. But the constant analysis of thoughts was something I found really unhelpful. Too much introspection isn’t always a good thing, I discovered.
After some solo research, I discovered metacognitive therapy, and read Pia Callesen’s book. And that was genuinely transformative - it’s been proven a far more effective treatment for anxiety and depression than other therapy modalities and I can see why. It massively transformed the way I deal with difficult thoughts, triggers etc.
Pleased you’ve found stopping therapy helpful for moving forward - and that you have someone to go back to whenever you need.
Thank you so much for sharing this Jessica, it’s really insightful. As someone who has had therapy many times over the years (in the form of CBT), reading about your experience is interesting. I’ve been struggling again since December swinging between anxiety and low mood, and decided a couple of months ago that therapy was the right way to go again. I’m currently on a waiting list for counselling because I feel I’ve done all I can with CBT, but need to delve deeper into where everything stems from and work on healing that going forward.
I’d love to know if you have any books on neuroscience that you recommend? I’ve also read a lot of self-help books over the years but some not as helpful as others sadly.