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