Tuesday, February 12, 2019

Discomfort

This description of how to sit with discomfort resonates with me so much that I made it the screensaver on my phone. My default setting is to take the numbing detour you see described by the white line. In many ways this diagram of how to sit with discomfort reminds of the the welcoming prayer.

When I saw my therapist this past Friday we had a conversation about the appointment I'd had with my doctor earlier in the week. In particular about my doctor asking me to take a look at what was behind my mental block to taking medication for depression.

What ensued was a most uncomfortable conversation. I did and didn't want to go there. We went there. At one point I covered my eyes with my hands and dropped a staccato string of f-bombs.

I trust my therapist. I trusted where she was taking me even in the midst of great resistance on my part. It opened the door for me to give voice to long ago happenings and how they have shaped my view of taking medication. I will not be in control. She assured me I was always in control of my decisions including the decision about medication. I will be a failure  I whispered. I will be abandoned if I admit I am feeling depressed.

Thank goodness there is a safe place for me to give voice to these deeply felt beliefs. And a safe person to help unpack them.

I knew I could call my doctor's office after my appointment and ask for a prescription to be sent to my pharmacy. He'd made that clear in every appointment. I'd felt like he was frustrated with me at my last appointment and I internalized that as I'm not trying hard enough to get better.  My therapist wanted me to talk to the doctor in person about my perceptions surrounding those feelings before asking for the prescription (if that's what I decided to do.) That made me uncomfortable as fuck but I made the call and miraculously got an appointment for yesterday.

Over the weekend I remembered there was a quote that had resonated with me from a YouTube video I'd watched a few months ago. I went looking and found it:

"Sometimes we are an unreliable witness to our own experiences. If we are convinced we are always right, how then do we bring inquiry to things that feel factual."

I've been invested in being right about so much in my life. A white knuckled grip on being right.

It felt factual that I would be a failure if I took medication for depression. It felt factual that I wouldn't be in control and that I would be abandoned, too.

I took all those thoughts to my doctor's appointment yesterday. I am grateful for a doctor who I can have hard and vulnerable conversations with. This is the second time I've had to go back and clarify perceptions with him and he always thanks me for doing so as he says it makes him a better doctor.

It's making me a better, more authentic person, too.





1 comment:

Daisy said...

Reading and absorbing, my dear. It's about all I can do. Good to hear your voice.