Harshika

 A THERAPIST IN THERAPY

It all began a decade ago. I was only 16. I had no one turn to. I was unsure of what I had gotten myself into but I knew it wasn’t right. How? Because it didn’t feel right. I started questioning my very being, my open friendly nature, and my morality and virtues. I began to self-blame, self-hurt and put myself in spiral of shame and shut myself from the world. Little did I know, it was all a trap. A trap just because I was a teenage girl who would speak openly and behave in a more friendly manner than others would. At 10, I was inappropriately touched by my rowing master. At 16, sexually harassed by my classmates and at 20, taken advantage of without consent by a stalking ex-boyfriend along with verbal abuse and threats. With rumours spiralling around me and people walking out my life, for the first time I felt loneliness, shame, depression, anxiety and shattering of my self-esteem and confidence. It hit me altogether with such force that I dropped my head and gave up. But not for long, I was determined to show everyone that nothing will stop me and I am who I am, not what they have heard. I found myself a therapist. I have changed 3-4 different therapists, not because they weren’t good, but because I needed different therapies. I went from a CBT therapist to a general counsellor to an art therapist and finally a movement therapist. 3 years into therapy and being a graduate psychologist myself, I was so proud of myself and barely ashamed of the fact that I required therapy. In fact, I used my experience as a client to understand my own self and clients better. For some reason, this knowledge that therapists need to go for mandatory therapy during training, eased my patients to trust me more and believe I understood them. But it wasn’t an easy journey – I still experience anxiety some days. I would suddenly find myself breathing very fast and feeling helpless, sweat beads on my forehead, scrambling to hold something or do something to make me feel better, scrunching my pillow to keep it together and finally just crying it out till I fall asleep exhausted. I never allowed myself no matter how severe the anxiety to go into a medication state. This is one thing I still can’t explain – my presence of mind on getting myself back into control, even if it was after an hour of struggle. But I was and still am grateful for it. Depression was a whole other story though. It was really really hard, I wouldn’t understand my meltdowns, my frustrations, my want for isolation, my thoughts of dying or running away or hurting myself or hurting others, exaggerating every situation and putting myself down at every chance. I would bang my head on the wall, hit myself with the bottle, tear paper and attempt running away from home to not be a burden. I had resigned and told myself, “I’m not good for anything.” Despite improvement in anxiety due to the slow progress in overcoming my depression, my anxiety kept recurring. Sometimes, worse than before. But apart from my therapists ; who insisted I speak to my family and friends to get extra help and made me do it ; with all of their help and my will, I survived. My friends and family never understood entirely what I went through or what was going on. But they listened, gave me advice, pointed out both my strengths and flaws strategically, and I grew into the more confident human that I am today. Despite being a Counselling Psychologist, I constantly remind myself and others, ‘I am first human. Then a Psychologist.” In 2020, there are times I still wish I could go back to my therapist. But I’m trying this time to make it on my own, to apply everything I learnt and did earlier and most importantly to prioritize myself, define myself and not let anyone else define me otherwise.