When I was in my mid thirties, I was in danger of self destruction.  I was suffering.  It didn’t seem to matter that I knew why I did what I did (Oprah was so helpful).  I kept doing it.  I was so desperate for relief from my suffering, that I took an extreme step.  I actually was referred to a provider guide in search of a therapist.  And I wrote down his name.  In 6pt font.  And folded it into a tiny square.  And hid it in my wallet.  I am so grateful for that day, a day I hurt so badly I had  to call the number, and I am grateful for the lessons I learned.  I learned the first counselor might not be the right counselor, but I couldn’t afford to give up.   I learned there is growth in doing what we fear, in facing our demons.  I learned that facing my demons alone was nothing like facing them with someone I trusted, someone I knew understood my pain.  And I learned what it is like to sit on the couch, rather than in the chair.  I am grateful.  I am a therapist because I know telling your story matters.  Telling my story changed my life.  It can change yours.

Diana Loesch, LPC