Your Self Improvement is Fake - Stop Hiding Behind it and Go to Therapy
The quest for self-improvement is a noble one. It shows that we recognize we can improve and change for the better.
I’ve always had a thing for self-help. I’ve bought nearly every book on the subject, collecting a small library of books that would lead me into enlightenment.
I was always seeking answers for why I wasn’t ‘happy’. I felt like something was constantly missing and that if I could just find the right answer, then I would feel whole. All it would take is trial and error. Keep experimenting until I found a regimen that made me feel whole again.
Over the years I’ve basically tried every approach to self-help with mixed results: gratefulness, mindfulness meditation, digital detoxing, healthy diet, sleeping well, visualization, exercising, getting out into nature. If only I could find the right approach.
No matter what I did I couldn’t shake those awful feelings of loneliness and depression. I was unwilling to admit that I had a problem. And I was doing my best using every self-help mechanism in the book to go around the actual issues.
In all that time, I never considered that was part of the problem. That by mere merit of believing something was missing, it would feel like something was missing. Self-help was merely the guise I used to avoid what was going on in my life.
All my excitement about whatever new trend was just a façade.
I was depressed out of my mind. So much so that it led to serious mental health problems. Once that happened, it was kind of hard to deny there was a problem.
Since the beginning of 2021, I’ve been through the ringer of medical expenses. I’ve seen dozens of different doctors, tried different medications, and I’ve been in and out of hospitals left and right.
Finally, I stumbled into a bit of luck and found the right doctors. I found a psychiatrist two hours away from me that did telehealth. They cut through the crap and addressed the problem head on. No more random diagnoses, just dealing straight with my depression.
So, my psychiatrist and I got to work on medication. He recommended a good therapist, who I immediately got in touch with.
The therapist was also two hours out of my range. The good news about the hell of 2020 is that it’s made telehealth a reality that people can benefit from. And so, I got into therapy.
Before this year, I could never quite get into it in therapy. I would talk around issues and talk about surface level shit going on in my life, never diving in enough to do the work. But everything changed when I had my episode. It made me take my mental health seriously.
Alas, as I started therapy this year, my goal was to address underlying trauma and process all my grief and emotions. I stopped bouncing around from therapist to therapist. I stopped experimenting with whatever self-help fad was in at the time.
I got serious about myself with what the real issues were. The truth of the matter was that I could use all the self-help mechanisms in the world, but none of it would matter unless I decided to truly heal myself, which I was not equipped to deal with on my own.
I recognize that I am very fortunate to have found the right help. I finally got onto medication that worked, that didn’t make me tired 24/7. My therapist and I started to talk about trauma and are working at getting to the root of the issue. He guides me back toward my goals and keeps me on track. And I’m finally starting to feel… better.
Things are still far from perfect, but I’m no longer chasing the illusion of self-help. Now, I’m getting real assistance that is helpful for me.
Turns out you can’t hide from yourself forever.
