Guest Post - A Letter to My Future Therapist

To my future therapist,

Hello. To answer the question I know you will inevitably ask, I honestly have no idea how you can help me.

I do not that I need help and I'm hopeful that you can be a part of that. I know that I need healing and I need to know what is within me. I know a diagnosis won't fix everything, if anything, but all that I know isn't helpful if I am trying to face the unknown. I have seen its outline, and I have felt its presence for so long that it seems like forever, but I don't know what it is. I know I can't control what happens in my head or heart or whatever body part houses the darkest parts of our being, but I can shine light on it.

Right now, I am hiding from it just as much as it may be hiding within me. I know with time, I can work to understand it and live with it. It is a part of me, and no matter how much I may dislike myself at times, I love myself more. But right now, I don't know where to start.

I would start from the beginning, but by now, everything seems to be smeared together. There have been moments in my life that stand out, but I don't know what came first anymore. I can't tell you whether the events happened and then I started feeling the way I do, or vice versa. How do I feel? Well, that is another complicated question. The best, and most honest, answer I can give you is, I don't know. I have been too afraid to address that question with an open heart and mind. Being honest is scary. Being honest with something like this, that is terrifying.

This isn't my first counseling session ever; however, it is the first I feel strong enough (well, determined enough) to be as honest as I can about everything. I have lied to myself and others for so long that I almost started believing the lies. I lie(d) because I thought it would be easier to lie than face the truth. That in itself was a lie. Although, my theory may have been true in the moment, I now know it only hurts as it continues on.

I don't want to be ashamed of myself or my past anymore. I refuse to allow darkness to be my identity, but it is a part of me, and I am now choosing to address it and be my true self again. I have no idea if I am truly "ready" to face all of this, but I'm going to anyway because I doubt I'll ever be fully ready for such a thing.

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Stephanie Townsend is a 22 year old who has traveled a path of her own, which eventually lead her to God. She received the sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation, and First Communion in April 2015. Stephanie believes wholeheartedly in God's mercy and love, and strives every day to show others the beauty God places in the lives of all. Life has proven to be a day to day struggle for her; however, focusing on the beauty all around and maintaing hope even when it seems gone is how she is able to continue the path God has created for her.

"No matter the difficulties in life, God will always be there to carry you, love you, and show you just how priceless you are."

I'm Not Strong Enough

Can we all just talk super quick about how hard it is to ask for help? Whether it be with a project, or affording something, or during a time of doubt, it's probably one of the hardest things to do. When you ask for help, it's a rejection of pride and an admission to yourself and others that maybe, just maybe you don't have it all together.

Basically if we're not able to do it ourselves, we're weak. Or at least that's what we're told to believe. But in reality, the strongest people are the ones who are able to put aside their pride, and admit that they need help.

When I was first diagnosed with depression and anxiety, my mom made it clear that I could never put my problems on someone else. I had a hard time drawing the line of what was appropriate to mention and what was inappropriate. I'd say things about self-harm or my hospitalizations, and my mom would give me the "that's too much information" or "you're making other people feel bad/uncomfortable talks".

And so I learned to never, ever talk about how I felt with my friends.

It wasn't until my senior year of high school that a friend encouraged me to share my difficulties with her. I remember being pretty dumbfounded, and tread carefully when telling her about my problems.

She loved me after that, too.

My freshman year of college was basically a miracle. Everyone kept telling me how amazing I was doing and how proud they were of me. Which, when things got hard, made it so hard for me to ask for any help. I couldn't let everyone down. I was strong enough.

But, gosh, I wasn't. I'm still not. None of us are. Jesus wasn't strong enough to carry His cross on His own. Simon had to help Him out.

Sometimes, we can't do it on our own. And that's okay. God created us to be in community, with others and with Him. Don't be afraid to reach out to Him, and to those He has placed in your life.

Hands of Mercy, won't you cover me? Lord right now I'm asking you to be strong enough, strong enough, for both of us.