Today my therapist asked me how I’m doing. Because, you know, that’s what therapists do. Usually I give some variation of good/not good/tired/I don’t know. Helpful, I know.
Today, I deviated. I told her I felt depressed. She looked a little surprised and asked me when it started.
Weeks ago. It started weeks ago. I have felt like shit for at least a month. Yet every time I’d see her, I’d give my “not good” answer and talk around the fact that I felt depressed.
Newsflash: Therapists don’t read minds. If I don’t use those words that are specifically designed to describe this crap, there is no way for her to know.
I have this problem, you see. While I might sit here and write about bipolar and depression and anxiety and throwing around those words like its nothing, I still can’t bring myself to say them most of the time. Hell, I cringe a little on the inside when my therapist uses them.
Moral of the story? I need to learn to use my words.