Here's Why You Shouldn't Feel Embarrassed or Ashamed About Therapy
I kept therapy a secret for over a year
Until now, two people knew that I had gone to therapy. My girlfriend and my friend Subbarao — He had asked me nicely while we were out one night.
Otherwise, I kept it a secret.
I remember my hands shaking during my first session. Sitting on the couch across from a wonderful therapist named Alicia. I emailed her the night before and told her, “I just need someone to talk to.” She took an appointment the next day.
I realized I didn’t want to be sad anymore. I got sick and tired of trying to solve all my problems on my own or calling my mom and dumping the baggage on her. I sat on that couch twice a month for about 6 months.
Alicia taught me that some things are just over my head and that I can’t and shouldn’t try to solve everything alone. During one session, she had me draw a circle in my journal. “Write everything you actually control inside the circle,” she instructed. “After that, write everything you don’t control outside the circle.” It was a freeing feeling to recognize how small my sphere of influence was.
It is true. The man I am today can be traced back to those conversations with my therapist.
Yet, I never told anyone about it.
Why? I’m trying to unpack that myself.
My friends talk about their therapy sessions all the time. It’s accepted in our culture now. Hell, our health insurance covers most of it. Some people consider it irresponsible if you don’t see a therapist. It's the equivalent of skipping out on your dentist or something.
I guess I didn’t want to admit that something was wrong with me. Therapy is for other people. All the great leaders I try to emulate never had to seek help for their emotional baggage.
Which is, of course, baloney.
Historians consider William Sherman, U.S. Grant, and Abraham Lincoln the great triumvirate. Their leadership won the Civil War and saved the Union. I’ve read plenty about their qualities and military tactics. I’ve known about their feats since middle school.
Yet, no one mentioned the fact that all three had mental health issues.
Sherman battled anxiety and insecurity most of his life. At the start of the Civil War, he requested to be removed from command because, as the historian Donald Miller put it, “he had fallen into incapacitating depression, tormented by fears that he was unfit for command.” He suffered from imposter syndrome.
Ulysses S. Grant had depression layered with alcoholism. He drank alone and used whiskey to remedy the days he felt low, which was often. His authority was questioned on several occasions because of his drinking habit.
Finally, Lincoln suffered from crippling depression most of his adult life. Few people know this, but when Lincoln was thirty years old, his friends had to hide all the rope, knives, and guns from his house so he wouldn’t commit self-harm.
Did these men win the war and rid North America of slavery despite their bouts of mental illness?
Sure.
But it was a close call.
One wonders how different things would be if they had the same mental health tools we have today.
How much happier would they have been?
Would they be better husbands and parents?
How many more lives would they have saved?
I’m not saying therapy is the cure-all or that it’s right for everyone. Just talking about your feelings won’t solve your problems. Therapy is a fresh perspective, a confession, a reconciliation. It’s step number one to action.
I learned from therapy that there’s nothing admirable or “mentally tough” about carrying around your baggage. We were not meant to chew on our problems like General Grant chewed on his cigars.
If you want to be mentally tough, you have to articulate your weaknesses. Sometimes, that requires professional help.
Therapy is not embarrassing for me anymore. It might be the bravest thing I’ve ever done, and I plan to return.