I never thought I’d openly admit what I’m about to admit let alone blog about it, but by doing so I’m supporting my long-held conviction that the topic of mental health and wellness not be taboo. It’s important to walk the talk.

At the age of 62, I recently saw a therapist/shrink/counselor for the first time. Up until it was time to leave the house to go to the appointment though, I questioned my motive. I really didn’t know if I needed to go. How does one even know if one should see a therapist? Did what I was feeling at the time warrant such a measure? What did I expect to happen? I figured that the mere fact that I had even thought about seeing a therapist and had gone so far as to make an appointment was a pretty good indicator that I needed to see one.

If I were to rate my present life on a scale of 1 to 10, I’d give it a 6 at least, so things are okay for the most part. The holidays weren’t particularly easy but then again, they aren’t easy for a lot of people. In fact, several of my friends had it much worse than me. Fact: Misery really does love company. I didn’t feel alone.

Generally speaking, though, I felt something was missing in life–but I had no idea ‘what’–and felt I could be happier than I was–though I had no idea ‘how.’ I wondered if I was having a mid-life crisis twenty years too late. Or maybe seasonal affective disorder (SAD) because I was.

I needed to vent to someone, to hear myself verbalize the thoughts that had been running in my head. The person I’d see couldn’t be just anyone though. I needed to be able to be completely honest and know I wouldn’t be judged, which eliminated most everyone I knew. I needed a trust-worthy, disinterested third party.

I contacted a connection I’d made while working at the community college who made a couple of suggestions, and I settled on the one whose name I’d heard a time or two previously. Probably the fact that I called the day after Christmas signaled some kind of urgency, for my appointment was booked for the first week of January.

As the appointment day approached I found myself anxious (in a good way) to unload. I would be honest because I could be. She didn’t know me from Adam, and I liked that she wasn’t from this area either. In retrospect, I verbally regurgitated for an hour because she made it so easy by asking good questions. The takeaway of the experience was a mix of “ah-ha!” and a determination to answer her question, “What’s stopping you from …” I’ve been exploring and working on that ever since.

So why write about it? Because mental health and wellbeing has been an extremely important subject to me for most of my life, ever since a much loved family member descended into a deep, dark depression that lasted much, much too long, nearly two decades. That, plus my own ongoing recovery from alcoholism has taught me a lot about the importance of communication. It’s something I’m working on and probably always will.

I’m grateful for learning and growth, even when it’s uncomfortable. Even when I have to surrender to a nagging feeling that something isn’t quite right. Even when I have to ask for help and find a therapist…maybe that’s surrendering to the solution. I don’t mind admitting it. It helped, and I’m feeling much better!