Therapy

            Hello, hello, hello! Welcome to From the Mind of One Tim Cubbin! I’m Tim Cubbin! If you’re here, you are THE BEST! My regulars will know I say that very often on this blog, and I honestly mean it! You may have scrolled by this post completely uninterested, said “Meh,” and moved past. But, you! YOU decided to read my post, and that means A LOT to me because the topic is rather taboo, people don’t like to talk about it. But, you! YOU decided to read this post anyway. So for that, THANK YOU, and I hope you are compelled by what I’m presenting to you now!

            So I know that some of you know me as family or friend. Some of you know me from reading prior entries on this blog page. Some of you don’t even know me at all but thought this would be an interesting read as you scrolled past. However you are here, whyever you are here (autocorrect tells me “whyever” is not a real word, but I think it SHOULD be, so I’m using the word “whyever” whyever I want), I’m glad you’re giving me a chance. This blog is my job, but I don’t get paid, but I do this anyway because I care about my content and wish to share my views on all kinds of niche topics with y’all (I’m a New Yorker, yet I say “y’all.” I don’t know why), so by acknowledging me, you’re doing me a great service.

            But I digress. I’m here, typing on my computer keys, to talk about therapy. For the record, I am diagnosed with bipolar disorder, a fact that I purposely share because I’m not ashamed of it. Some people with mental illness are often embarrassed by their “disease.” I’m telling you, if you’re bipolar, or autistic, or have ADHD, or OCD, of mentally retarded, I’m telling you this: THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU! You can’t choose how you’re BORN, but you CAN choose how you LIVE. I spent years embarrassed when I was put on Ritalin for ADD (which was actually a misdiagnosis and caused me a lot of trouble for almost ten years). In school, I had to take medication midday, and that meant I had to go to the school nurse every lunch period. I was ashamed and hoped no one saw me in the nurse’s office to blab to the other students, and if I tried to avoid or forgot about the medication, I was called to the nurse’s office on the loudspeaker, so to me, I was in a lose/lose situation. If I was seen taking medications, the bullies would jump on any chance to make my school days difficult. I was always afraid someone would find out. I also learned how to fake taking the medication by faking taking them in my mouth then stealthily pocketed the pill, and was able to trick the nurse, because that seemed “cool.” If you’re a student in school and reading this, it might be best NOT to try to hang with the “cool kids” as they might not really be “cool” after all. I mean, there are exceptions, but most of the “cool kids” in my schools were jerks. So medications were my dirty little secret. Now, I know if you’re reading this, there may be a chance you feel this way too. If you are on meds, again, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU! THERE IS NO NEED TO FEEL EMBARRASSED! If these little tablets make your condition better, wouldn’t you rather be taking them? People with diabetes have to test their blood sugar and take insulin. It’s not a reason to be embarrassed, it’s just part of their life. I’m actually on medications for epilepsy and hypertension. I want to avoid having seizures or high blood pressure so I can have a good quality of life. This should not be embarrassing to me (and it’s honestly not). So if Ritalin makes you focus through your ADHD, or lithium can prevent manic bipolar episodes, wouldn’t that actually be a GOOD thing? I would think so. So if kids in your school think it’s “uncool” to be on medications, they’re probably the uncool ones. So if you’re on medications, you don’t have to share this with anyone, but you shouldn’t be afraid of being seen taking meds. It’s part of life, YOUR life, it ALWAYS will be, so you honestly shouldn’t be ashamed.

            So let’s get to my main point; therapy. If you take meds for mental illness, such as for bipolar disorder, you probably see a psychiatrist and/or therapist to evaluate your condition and prescribe your medications. You may be embarrassed by this, sitting in a room talking about your “feelings” for forty-five minutes. You may hate it, even dread it. I will also state that therapy may be more difficult for males because males are raised, particularly by fathers, to not talk about such things. Fathers may say things to their sons like “Man up,” or “Walk it off.” Some parents will not even try to conceive that there is nothing “wrong” with their children (and mental illness does not mean that anything is “wrong” with a child). My dad didn’t. He didn’t believe in mental illness, or medication, or therapy. I was just, his word, “abnormal.” I’m not the perfect mini-Mike, or a doctor, or a lawyer, or famous, or rich son that he wanted, and if you are none of those things, again, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU! You can’t always be the kid your parents want, and THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT! No one is perfect! And there is NO SUCH THING as “normal.” How can anyone be “normal” since no two people are the same? How is there a paragon of “normal” if we are all different? She gets good grades; does that make her “normal?” He’s a football star; is he “normal?” How is “normal” defined? He’s in ninth grade and he can’t read at a ninth grade level; he must be “abnormal.” She can’t sit still for more than three minutes; that makes her “abnormal.” The word “normal” when applied to human beings, really SHOULDN’T apply. But let’s get back to therapy. Sure you may not like it, it may make you feel that there is something wrong with you, you may feel that you’d rather be anywhere else for those forty-five minutes. Look, I get it, I honestly get it. I used to hate therapy. My doctors were just so boring, acting all high-and-mighty, telling me how things should be. I had therapy once a month, and I did not look forward to that day. But think about it: you watch a television show you like, go to school or the office the next day and talk all about it with your friends and coworkers. So if you have something bothering you, wouldn’t you like to talk about THAT as well? A fellow student calls you a really bad name and the principal doesn’t do anything to punish that kid. If you go to a therapist, you can talk it through. What did this student call you? Why did he call you that? Why did this bother you? How did it make you feel? What did you do after he called you that name? Doesn’t talking about this with someone understanding, nonjudgmental make you feel better? I’ve truly come to appreciate a therapist. If I yell at someone, why did I do it and how did it make me feel? Did it make me feel better? Was there really a reason to have done that? Did it solve anything? What could I have done instead? My therapist really makes me think about it so it doesn’t happen again. I actually have a safety plan. What are my triggers? What can I do before a crisis starts? Who can I talk to? What can I do instead of a crisis? This really helps me. And she helps me set goals. It feels so good to go to my therapist and report my feelings. Did I want to yell? Did I actually not yell? Did I yell? What did I do when I felt like yelling? What did I do? What did/could have done instead? If I’m successful, the reassurance is just so good. If I’m not, it just helps to know what I should do next time a crisis approaches. Now, I can’t expect you to do this, but I go to therapy weekly. It’s a great feeling to be able to go to her and tell her I made it through a week without crisis, sometimes I don’t feel good about how my week went, but talking about it just helps me. I have a set day and time every week, and my progress in treatment is important to me. I also see my psychiatrist every four weeks to discuss how the medications are working for me, make adjustments, talk about important life events. I don’t dread it like I used to. I find it to be that therapy is not bad, and it does so much for me. So honestly, if you are in therapy, if you are on medications, if you are diagnosed with mental illness, you have NOTHING to be ashamed of. If you feel like you need help, than you should probably get it. There’s NOTHING wrong with that, with asking for help.

            If you’re here, you are THE BEST! I hope my advice can be of help to you. You totally don’t have to agree with me. If you don’t think any of what I said applies to you, I actually invite you to ignore what I said and go on and read the end of this essay. I can’t tell YOU how YOU should feel or think, this is how I feel and how it applies to ME! I hope my essay was compelling, clear, and concise. I write plenty of other blog content such as more editorials, short stories, poetry, and book reviews, so if you liked this post, feel free to continue to peruse the blog, get a feel of how my thoughts work, and now I say to you, as always, Tim Cubbin… out!