Untangled

Before I tell this tiny true story that leads to a sort of bigger true story (and the purpose of this post), I need to say that my husband is the best one I know. He supports me and makes me feel beautiful and wanted. I feel like this build-up implies that I’m bracing you for some awful marital rule he’s broken and this couldn’t be farther from that.

Ok. So one day we were at Chacho’s. Husband’s book was released that day so I was driving him around to stores in the city so that we could see them on the shelves. Three stores in and no books. He was visibly frustrated and for good reason. We stopped at Chacho’s to refuel and after ordering at the counter and taking our seats, my phone rang. Phone calls of any sort send me into a bit of a tizzy, but when I realized the call was from a potential client who’d found me on google it was like ALL SYNAPSES FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!

I motioned the “be right back” finger while I said some probably dumb words to the client on the phone and walked to an empty area across the restaurant. A few seconds later I hear “BOO! BOOOOOOO!” I spent zero time wondering who the Boo was for – after almost 18 years, I knew that Boo was mine. Still talking to the client, I say but don’t say “Dude…I know your eyeballs see me on the phone” and he hears the silent sentence and responds by telling me that they called for our order and he wanted to get it but my purse was on the chair.

I quickly come up with at least two solutions to the stated problem -none of which involve yelling – while still trying to sell my work and talk business to this stranger. My pitch has fallen completely apart so I walked over to the table and ended the call on a very welp note.

So here’s the thing. I always assume that any time I see a phone to my husband’s ear, it’s important for one reason or another. If I walk into a room while he’s mid-call, I quietly exit. If the phone rings and he answers, I immediately tell the kids to get quiet and they actually listen. We operate under the truth-based assumption that whatever voice is on the other end of that phone is an important one because he does important things and talks to important people.

So when I awkwardly ended that call and sat down to my nachos, I realized that this assumption did not apply to me. I realized that at that moment to my husband (and probably at most moments to my children), no exchange of words between me and the voice on the other end of the phone was even as important as nachos. And not just nachos, but nachos right the eff now. And I realized that I was not okay with that. But the real gut punch was the realization that it was me who’d lost sight of my own value and purpose outside of being a mother to my children and a support to my spouse

I don’t think for one second that these thoughts ran through my husband’s head when he yelled my pet name across the restaurant. But they went through mine and they made a tiny little home there over the next several hours. The next morning, I made my first ever appointment with a therapist.

I’d been struggling with some issues in the weeks (ok months) (FINE, YEARS) preceding this little thing that happened. I guess I’d describe it as a general lack of direction and confidence and a hushed-but- always-there fear of what life beyond caring for small children would look like. When I felt this very same feeling six years ago, I took the GRE and decided to go back to school to pursue a Masters in Psychotherapy. Then I got pregnant.

I don’t ever ever ever want to be pregnant again, so I decided to take a way cheaper and far less painful route to moving past these issues and contacted a therapist. That email was the scariest email I’ve ever sent. I may have started clawing at the computer screen to “take it back” the second I hit send. To find this email recipient, I’d searched something like “therapist for women in Houston” and a directory of about 4 million counselors popped up. I made it through 5 or 6 then landed on a lady who had my favorite Ikea rug in her office photo. That’s how I chose my therapist, y’all. A rug.

It didn’t matter. I just needed to talk to someone because a) I had that itch to obtain a “real” career as a therapist again but realized I had no idea what a therapist actually does and b) I knew if I’d waited even another day, I’d settle back into my fog and find a thousand reasons not to waste energy trying to lift it. We met the following week and I knew I’d done a good thing.

I grew up thinking that therapy was just not a thing that Black people did and sadly, our numbers support that idea. For a host of reasons, minorities receive mental health care treatment at a rate of about half (even less for Asian Americans) that of Caucasians. For most of my life, I’d held the belief that you have to be a total wacko or have suffered from horrible abuse or struggle with addiction in order to benefit from therapy. This is just not true.

The changes I saw in just a few sessions were remarkable. Those sessions led me to write again. They helped me move past writing for any motive other than the fact that it’s a thing that I truly love to do and a thing I’ve known from a very young age that I need to do even if my own eyes are the only eyes that ever see the words.

They helped me narrow the gap between the good others see in me and what I see in myself. They taught me how to unstick myself from those stuck places – those places where your heart wants to move in the direction of something…anything, but fear plants your feet. They equipped me with an anxiety toolkit for those moments when I feel myself spiraling into the irrationally terrifying future I’ve constructed in my head.

And honestly they just felt so good. It felt good to toss it all out there to a completely unbiased someone who for 55 minutes had only my best interest at heart.

A part of me felt like I didn’t deserve that because I’d never suffered from depression and didn’t have any “real problems”. But I do deserve it. You do, too. Everyone deserves a shot at accessing their best self and sometimes it’s only our tangled thoughts holding that person captive. The way I see it is, therapists are the people we call on to help us untangle them.

So I’m grateful for that day at Chacho’s. It brought forth change – change I may never have made without that something that was really nothing. I didn’t mention how I felt that day because it was his day and we make a point to keep our own sh*# at bay when we’re celebrating the other person. In fact, I didn’t tell him about it until two weeks ago when I told him I needed to write this but didn’t want to sound like I was attacking his character in any way. We played around with the idea of using a different lead-in but ultimately agreed upon telling the whole truth.

I’ve suspended my sessions until I feel the need to continue them. Who knows when that time will come, but it feels good to know that when it does, I’ll be brave enough to send that email.

***

PLEASE feel free to reach out or message me or start a conversation about any of this. I shared this experience with a few of my close friends and every single one of them expressed that they too had either visited a therapist or always wanted to but felt weird about doing so. Let’s make this normal.

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  • Margie

    After 14 years, I was laid off in July. I mean, I wanted to leave but the money was awesome so I stayed and stayed. This was my out. I now get to take my kid to kindergarten, help with his homework, etc. I never wanted to do this but here I am. And I’m good at it. Before all this, I too wanted to write. One of my resolutions was to find my path. I have so many things to need to talk about and have just been dragging my feet on finding a therapist. I know I should go. I know I need help because I’m a little lost. I’m glad you went. No shame in needing to talk. Everyone should and I wish this wasn’t so frowned upon. We all need someone to talk to. Thank you for sharing.ReplyCancel

    • Angie

      Absolutely love that you wrote this. I am 29 and for quite a few years I’ve been feeling “off”. Not depressed or necessarily sad, but as if there is something I can’t seem to access that is inhibiting my full potential and happiness. I’ve made changes within those years, I recently went back to school and I’m extremely happy I decided to and I thought that would solve whatever was my issue but I still feel the same. I’ve been toiling with the idea of therapy but as you said I have a guilt almost because there’s nothing necessarily wrong and I am not depressed. Your post made me realize that as women we have the tendency to put everyone else’s needs before ours and we can only help those we love when we are at our best mental and emotional capacity. Im going to look into some kind of therapy so I can make sense of whatever it is that has been going on in my own head. I appreciate your honesty and love your blog. Blessings to you and your family family.
      AngieReplyCancel

      • laramiserrano@gmail.com

        “Off” is the perfect way to put it. I strongly encourage you to give it a shot and please let me know if you need an extra push to get you there. I really appreciate your sharing.ReplyCancel

  • Jake Ruskey

    Lots of courage in here, really introspective and thoughtfully writtenReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      I really appreciate that.ReplyCancel

  • Shane Pope

    Thank you for writing this. My dad died when I was 17 and for the longest time I was too stubborn and thought I’d be weak if I went to therapy, after my first session I had that same exact feeling you mention here, “wow this person doesn’t know my past and their whole job is to listen to me, how cool”. So now I encourage any friends of mine that’re struggling with any mental health issues big or small to pursue help. The stigma against getting help is so damaging to our society. Hopefully we can do our part in getting past it.

    -ShaneReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      Man.It doesn’t get much tougher than that. Crazy that we’re programmed to think we should just man up and move past things like this. Thank you so much for sharing.ReplyCancel

  • Christopher Huggins

    Thank you for this. I have been thinking about therapy and this is encouraging.ReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      If it’s at all financially possible, do it. You won’t regret it.ReplyCancel

  • Krystle

    Good for you! I love your writing, the real news, and the way you take us to that exact moment like we were there. I can relate to this issue we face as women. My husband Ian 16 years my senior and has a company he’s had for more than 25 years. I work for him and at times i feel like I’m losing myself. So then I go back and forth into the fashion world to claim my independence, but with 2 small children, working for our family company at home is what is easiest and makes me feel like a better mom (and my feet thank me for not being in heels on a sale floor all day long). Luckily, my husband has always made me feel like we have the same worth in the company, same rank, and he says “us” and “we” a lot. But yes, there are time s when I have to remind him we are different and unlike him, I still have to go home bathe the kids, cook, clean up the mess made, etc. I find balance in traveling when I can. And I find peace in knowing great men have great women supporting them. I’m ok with being the supportive role because he supports me in the endeavors I’ve chosen or will choose in the future. It’s not easy being a woman. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Thanks, friend, for this amazing piece.ReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      I had a feeling we were in similar situations, Krystle. And your words are really encouraging. It’s funny you mention the us and we – my husband corrects me when I congratulate just him on things that we’ve worked together to make happen. It does make a difference. Thank you so much for reading, friend!ReplyCancel

  • Alex

    I’m glad you kept the lead in – it spoke to me. Having experiences like that are 100% part of life, but it’s not something you have to deal with on your own. I started therapy last March, just because I was having some unhealthy thoughts about my value as a person and whether I was truly living my best life. Therapy has not only boosted my own self esteem, it’s helped me work through deep rooted issues with my family relationships and surface issues with my partner, along with dealing with the curves life throws at me. Your story of starting therapy is very similar to mine and many others, my only suggestion to you, is to stick with it even when your thoughts aren’t in a bad place – it helps you manage your day to day better and it’s always nice to have another person champion for you in your successes as well. Happy for you and your mental health!ReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      That’s a really good point. I think I’ll take that advice :). Thank you so much for reading and sharing with me.ReplyCancel

  • Natalie Del Castillo

    Thank you so much for this post! We met in Austin at your husband’s signing this past year, but I have been a fan of you as long as I have been a fan of him. Something I’ve always admired about you both is how vocal you are about your love for each other! Your blog makes me excited about getting married and having your love go to this next level with your partner where you understand each other.

    The stigma that surrounds therapy in both the black and hispanic communities can be so hard to deal with. I was 16 when I knew that I needed help and I was terrified to ask my parents. It wasn’t until I hit “rock bottom” emotionally that my mom sort of woke up for lack of a better phrase and she realized that I needed help beyond what they could provide. It changed my life! I’m 27 now and I’ve been going to therapy on/off over the years. Needing to go back as soon as we make this move to Austin. Anyways, super happy for you! Sometimes it takes these random light bulb moments like this one to show you what you have to do for you.

    P.s. when we met, you asked my boyfriend when he was planning on marrying me, and I’m happy to share that he did the damn thing and proposed before the year ended 🙂ReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      AAAAAAH! I knew that was you as soon as I started reading this! I’m so happy for you guys. You’re going to make a beautiful bride. Thank you thank you thank you for reading and sharing your story.ReplyCancel

  • Aimee

    Thank you for sharing this. It couldn’t have been easy.
    I can honestly say my therapist is half of the reason I’m still around to write this. I’m so glad you are too.

    This may sound strange but it helped me to wrap my mind around the concept that being the best mother I could meant not always putting myself last. Maybe it’ll be useful to you or someone reading, maybe not.

    On every airline flight, there is an attendant who gives a standard issue safety speech with instructions on how to react during an emergency, and how there are oxygen masks that drop down in the event of that. One of the things they tell you, if you are flying with children, is to secure your own oxygen mask first. If you run out of oxygen yourself, you can’t help anyone else with theirs.

    I’m slowly learning to put my oxygen mask on first, even when that goes against my brain screaming to always put my children first.ReplyCancel

  • Kelly

    If not for the fact that she moved too far away, I would still be seeing my therapist. You put into words the way I felt – that therapy was for people with major issues, people who were really crazy. There is such a stigma. Mental health is important for everyone and everyone has different things to work on throughout their lives. Good for you for seeking a sounding board and guidance! You painted a complete picture, one that is relatable, entertaining and revelatory. You did a wonderful job exploring what led you to a therapist. Thank you for sharing.ReplyCancel

  • Natalie

    This is so good and important. I am a licensed clinical social worker and have worked as a therapist but still often feel like my work isn’t as important as my husband’s or always should come second to my role as a wife and a mother (especially mother – kids are needy). For me those feelings are both of my own creation and both mine and my husband’s inherent expectations about what a mother and wife “should” be. I have thought often about seeing a therapist myself to sort out some of that but aside from feeling like I’d be a terrible client, it feels like there’s no space for it in our lives which is probably indicative of the problem itself! Anyway, thanks for being genuine and open. I love following your family on social media. Anytime I encounter a mom who feels like she parents similarly to me, I feel such a relief and sense of kinship because I think it’s more common for mom-world to be judgy. So thanks for being real and cool. 😊 And your pictures are awesome!ReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      This is exactly how I feel! Thank you for putting it into words. One of my friends recently returned to work after raising her little ones at home and she goes around warning some that it’s not worth it 😂. She expressed the same sentiment: that the heavy weight of the childcare still falls in her lap and she feels no more “important” than she did when her only role was mother. She also now has the stresses of the “real job” and her overall quality of life has just really diminished.

      I really encourage you to make that call to the therapist. I think you’ll really benefit from it and more importantly, you totally deserve to have someone
      (including yourself) focus on you. Thank you for reading and sharing with me.ReplyCancel

  • Hagen

    I am a white young man from Germany so on the surface we don’t have that much in common (if only being seen superficially). The beautiful thing is, though, that the feeling you described up there is something I can 100 % relate to. I have been going to my therapist twice a week for a year and a half now after having been to the bottom. At the point I didn’t know that it was anxiety and a sort of depression that kept me down but something needed to change.
    Before that, my thoughts on seeing a therapist were the same as yours: you only go there if you suffered like hell. That is not true.
    It is an encouraging thought that you are never the only nor the first one experiencing these situations.
    So keep it going! (I now feel comfortable as well talking about seeing a therapist and the people don’t treat me as someone “crazy”)ReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      I love this :). Thank you so much for taking the time to read and respond.ReplyCancel

  • Patrick

    Super brave and important thing to write —and post. Having invested heavily in therapy (first for my wife and children, only to discover that I needed the most work, myself!!), I couldn’t agree more with your plea to make it normal. I was so scared to admit I was a) messed up and b) had no idea how to deal with it; boy, that seems silly now.

    Shea’s one of my favorite writers, but one of the reasons I love him is because of the support he shows you. Glad I got to read this.ReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      The whole family! That’s awesome. Thank you for sharing your story here. I appreciate it.ReplyCancel

      • Patrick

        Yup! Start that normalization process young. Should be like going to the doctor…a part of your balanced, healthy life 🙂ReplyCancel

  • Mike

    As someone who just booked their first ever therapy appointment for the end of the month, I really needed this. Ever since setting the time I’ve grown nervous of what I was getting myself into. I’ve been battling anxiety for the past few years, and have had doubts if therapy would even help me cope with it. So thank you for sharing your story, it was so wonderfully written and it helped me confirm that I am doing the right thing for my own self improvement.ReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      Good for you! Yes, I was on edge for the entire week leading up to the appointment. I just told myself that even if this turned out not to be the “cure” for the thoughts that were ailing me, it was one hour of my life. Honestly, I don’t think anxiety ever just goes away no matter how hard we work at it. But it CAN get better. Much better. Best of luck to you.ReplyCancel

  • Andrew

    The authenticity and vulnerability is beautiful. Thank you for sharing this.ReplyCancel

  • Dave

    I read this after Shea linked to it on Twitter. I just wanted to say first how wonderful it is that you feel comfortable sharing this. I went to a therapist for the first time after my Mother died, and working up the nerve to schedule that first appointment is the toughest part! Also, the way you describe how Shea’s actions made you feel, while not blaming him was wonderful. It caused me to think of similar ways I act towards my Wife, & how even if you have a strong and Supportive marriage, seemingly innocuous actions can make your spouse question themselves and their self worth. Thanks for the great read and for making me reconsider the effect of my actions on the most important person in my life. Shea, Boy A, Boy B and the Baby seem very lucky to have you.ReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      This is so great to read. I’m so glad you found a way to apply lessons from our experience to your own life. That’s really really cool. I appreciate your reading and sharing.ReplyCancel

  • Andrea

    Larami –

    I see so much of myself in your story. As a black woman, I didn’t think I got to go to therapy. (That was for rich folks with real problems!) I thought I just had to deal.

    But I started therapy last fall just after separating from my husband. I used to have such a clear idea of who I was, what I wanted, and what was acceptable to me but that clarity became muddied over the past few years. Like many people, I laughingly threw the word “depression” around and never really took time to evaluate my mental state and allow myself to accept that I was clinically depressed. I stop writing, stopped visiting family, stopped going out with friends, all of it. I ran from anyone else that could hurt me. Therapy has given me the tools to walk through the pain instead of continuing to walk around it.

    Interestingly(?), Shea’s tweets were a huge influence during my most depressive episode. He started posting tweets like “bet on yourself” and “keep going” and for whatever reason it woke me up. And the beautiful photos you’ve taken of your family reveal a warmth and openness that told me you were a woman with something to say. Thank you for sharing it with us.ReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      Such kind words. Thank you so much, Andrea. It’s good to hear from so many others that therapy actually WORKS.ReplyCancel

  • Kenny

    Appreciate you sharing this, I’ve been on the fringe of wanting to seek a therapist and found much of this to have resonated with me…just placed an order for a rug online so things look pretty promising going forward.ReplyCancel

  • Amar

    Thank you for writing this and including the stigma that it holds within the black community. I’m black and Muslim and male and fell into a deep depression last spring and it lasted well into Fall 2017. I lost a job and felt like I had no direction in life and just felt the lowest I’ve ever felt in my life. I had suicidal thoughts and lost a bunch of weight until I finally got help. I’m doing much better now and found a new job and am on medication. I also see a therapist regularly. I found a free group for men who are dealing with depression in the summer and thank God for that because I don’t know if I would be here if it wasn’t for that group. I’m glad you took the step as well and find it beneficial. Love to you and Shea and the kids.ReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      Wow. So amazing that you found such a great support system. Thank you for opening up about your experience. I (and probably many others) appreciate it.ReplyCancel

  • Ana Tamez

    You’re such an inspiring person. Strong, physically and mentally. I’m a Latina Gen X’er and my Latina millennial friend asked me a few weeks ago if I’d ever taken anything for anxiety, and I told her yes. I honestly had a short internal dialogue with myself before admitting it, but then I knew she was asking for a reason and I didn’t want my answer to stop her from considering getting help. We started talking about our parents, and the stigma that follows seeking mental health care in the Hispanic community. How you’re perceived as weak if you can’t “tough it out.” I told her what my OB/GYN told me after I had to deliver my daughter at 27 weeks and leave her in the ICU for three months: Diabetics need medicine to regulate their condition; this is a condition, so do you. There’s no shame in that. I got off the meds as soon as I could, but when my dad died a few years ago, I went to my PCP, we had a conversation and he put me back on meds. So far, so good.ReplyCancel

    • laramiserrano@gmail.com

      Good stuff, Ana.Thank you so much for sharing that. And yes, very similar stigma in our community as well. I’m glad you’ve made the wise decision to take care of YOU.ReplyCancel