Your Family is NOT your Therapist

Did my family let me down?

So, it started as a normal fun call with my sister, and the moment I steered the conversation in the direction of what has been bugging me for the millionth time, she quickly ran to give the phone to mom. She just couldn’t bear the thought of going through a detailed postmortem report of my brain yet again. Did I hate her then? Well, I didn’t actually think anything of her action at that particular moment. Why? Because I got a better audience, an experienced one: my mom!

A Phone and a woman

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And there I went again blurting out the same conversation we had a few hours back. The only thing that changed this time was that my mom had enough. In short, she asked me to suck it up and face the real world. What she didn’t understand was that her daughter needed words of encouragement — love, even — and not a practical “suck it up” statement. Did I hate her then? Disappointed and let down, yes! Hate, never!

God would HAVE to visit me, today!

After sulking for a few hours with my phone switched off, I decided now God needs to come to me and tell me about his plans. How would I force him to visit me? You’ll probably laugh. By taking off my sweater and suffering in cold. If he loves me, he’ll come. Right? Isn’t that how love works? So, I suffered and suffered and suffered some more.

A Woman

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Trust me, I cannot tolerate even the slightest dip in the temperature. I need a sweater just the moment a winter gust decides to blow in my direction. And I cried like a moron for tenth time — or was it an 11th time? To save myself from doing something absolutely stupid, I decided to turn to my trusted companion: a glass of red wine. It calmed my nerves, and I switched on my phone, kept it in flight mode, but turned on wifi. Depression can’t hold me back from posting a review on my Instagram page. Oh yes, I am a beauty influencer, too.

God’s mysterious visit?

That’s when I realized my husband and my friend were worried about my phone being off. I did not want to talk because I did not wish to cry in front of them, but I could not keep them worried, as well. So, I sucked it up and gave them a call. They both heard my problems and tried their best to calm me down. After talking to them, I felt as if God sent them to make me feel better. Since he couldn’t just “visit” me, he sent his soldiers.

A man and a woman hugging

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

Well, at that time, I would have settled with a piece of plaster falling on my head as a sign of God’s attempt to visit me. Why? You guessed it! I was cold out of my mind and really needed to wear a sweater. Yeah, in came the shivers, and out went my resolve to force God to visit me. Maybe that’s why he didn’t visit me. He knew I have the determination of a, well, someone who does not have any resolve. So, he just enjoyed the show.

They love me. Don’t they?

Now, you would think that I have a terrible sister and mom, and I have the best husband and even better friend. Not really! All of them have switched places over time. There were times when my husband was being truly mean, and my best friend left me alone in my moments of breakdown; during those times, however, my sister became my warrior princess and my mom became my hero. But things are never that simple. They all love me, but they can’t be my rock all the time. Trust me, they would love to. If they could, they would gladly be my permanent support system. However, they are also humans. They have their limits and their own baggages to carry.

A family sitting together

Photo by John-Mark Smith on Unsplash

Come to think of it, I think my dad has been my consistent supporter. Probably, because I never share a lot with him. He just gets to know about my issues by my mom and sister and then calls me to tell me that he is there for me. I am really daddy’s little girl <3

Sex and the City for rescue 🙂

Fast forward to today morning: I was feeling a little better. That’s what it is with the over-thinkers and troubled souls. They have crazy ups and downs. I am not saying that I just snapped out of every thought that has been bothering me. I just didn’t dare think anymore. Oh, don’t be too relieved. I’ll go back to the same state in a few hours or even minutes. So, coming back to this morning. I remembered a scene from one of the episodes of Sex and The City. If you are a fan, you’ll remember it soon enough.

Carrie broke up with Big for the nth time, and she started talking to her friends nonstop about how she thinks she made the right choice by breaking up with him. NONSTOP being the keyword. Her friends, by that time, have had enough. They told her to talk to a therapist. Carrie was shocked. She responded that why should she pay a stranger to listen to her when she had her best friends.

Can my family be my therapist?

That’s when it occurred to me. Her friends were right. Weren’t they? My family and friends do not have the tools to deal with a depressed person. They love me and would do their best to make me feel better. However, they have had no training to remain calm and composed every time I talk about same problem. They heard me, they provided the logical answer, they took turns in trying to make me feel normal, but that’s just it. They can’t do anything else. Can they?

A Therapist's office

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In fact, let me walk in their shoes. I am pretty sure I have walked in their shoes. When my mom or sister or dad or any friend go through any problem, I just provide them with a solution feeling good about myself. Nevertheless, when they come back to me with the same problem, I wonder why they are not implementing my awesome solution. Still, I manage a little bit of patience. But it’s not too long before I lose my patience and go batsh*t crazy on them.

Going under or underground?

Understanding their side does not mean that I would stop talking about my problems to them. If something is on my mind 24*7, believe me, that’s all that I would be able to talk about. Eventually, my craziness would crawl into their heads, and it would either turn them into a confused person like me or push them away from me. Am I ready to talk to a therapist yet? Not really! I think I can handle it, but I don’t think I can stop eating their brains with my problem. So, where is the balance? Perhaps, a break from them until I get back on my sane self would do all of us some good.

A Woman praying

Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

What do you think? Have you ever been in a similar situation? No! Lucky you 🙂 Yes, then share your own experience and insight. I would love to get your perspective.

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One Comment Add yours

  1. Claire says:

    A very honest and open post, thank you for
    Sharing

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