Face Washers (On Asking for Help)

 

For most of my life, I've lived with an understanding that you just have to have the ability to pull yourself out of whatever situation you are in.  I thought that I needed to make myself a super capable human who could deal with whatever life threw my way without crumbling, and certainly without asking for help.  I thought that this was what I was supposed to do, that I was supposed to become so self-reliant and impenetrable to the hurts and challenges of the world surrounding me.  Not only did I think that I was responsible for caring for myself in this way, but I also thought I didn't need to let other people know when I wasn't doing well, including my own husband.  I would mostly hold it all together until I could get to my shower, and with the water running so I couldn't be heard, I would just sob and release all that I had been holding in from the day. 

What's interesting about this is that all the while, I was praying and asking God for help, but I was asking him for help so that I could do things on my own.  As all of this has started to come to the surface more and I have more self awareness of this, I've realized just how prideful and unrealistic this all was, and how even though I was praying, I was asking for the wrong things.  

Last year, life felt like it was unraveling.  For a while, it had been as though there was a loose thread on my shirt that wasn't really a big deal at first and probably would have turned into much of nothing had I just snipped it so it didn't get caught on anything.  But I didn't, and so things started pulling on this thread and causing the thread to grow longer; eventually, the whole bottom part of the shirt was unraveling.  This was how life felt in 2021. 

I kept things very quiet and barely told anyone aside from a very small inner circle of people.  I would cling to Biblical promises and pray every day, many days just sobbing to the Lord during my prayer time.  I would post vague things on social media to indicate that I am in a valley but I am mostly ok, I am really just fine (much like Ross in Friends, I wasn't sure why it was coming out all loud and squeaky, but really I was fine). It's like I almost wanted to ask for help, to ask for a lifeline, but I couldn't do it. Who would even know what to do? And why couldn't I just handle this on my own? 

I was blaming myself for my problems in the oddest ways. If only I exercised every day and maintained a healthy weight like other people do, I probably wouldn't be in this situation right now; I'd probably be stronger both physically and mentally. So I won't ask for help until I can demonstrate that I can exercise regularly like a normal person.  If I just made time to eat more healthfully, my energy would be a lot higher and I'd have mental clarity to figure this all out. I know if I go to a doctor or therapist, they'll just tell me I need to start eating right and exercising to feel better. If only I washed my face every day like I'm supposed to, like a responsible adult, I wouldn't have these problems on my face with breakouts.  If I kept my house more tidy and cleaned more regularly, I wouldn't be as stressed because there wouldn't be so much clutter.  If I woke up earlier and started my days earlier, I'd have a lot more time to get things done and wouldn't be so stressed out during the day.  

It went on like this. 

I also recognized, through my husband and others around me, that I was trapped in a negative thought cycle that I couldn't break.  I was experiencing a lot of thoughts of "this will never get better" or "I'll always be like this."  I would get discouraged thinking that I would never be able to be a happy person like some of my friends were. I wondered what happened to the younger version of myself who was always laughing and felt optimistic about the future; I judged her, thinking that she was so naive.  

And then someone from my inner circle, my sister-in-law, gently brought up the idea of counseling to me. The first time she said it, I thought in my head "I'm not sure I really need that." Again, I started thinking some of those thoughts that I just needed to pull myself up and get over this, that I couldn't ask for help yet because I wasn't doing all the things like exercising and washing my face and eating healthy foods-- you can't ask for help if you aren't even helping yourself, right? 

I can look back now with such clarity on this time, but when I was in the middle of it, I couldn't see the lies I was believing and couldn't see how isolated I had become with my own thoughts.  

And then someone else in my inner circle brought up counseling. And it kept coming up.  And they weren't suggesting the type of counseling where I needed to lay on a couch and talk about my childhood traumas (which also has its own role, by the way, and I am in no way attempting to minimize this type of therapy), but they were talking about something called Biblical counseling to help me deal with my negative thought cycle.  I was listening but I was doubtful it could help me. I figured it probably could help other people, like the ones who exercise and wash their face every day, but what about people who weren't doing that? What about someone like me, who couldn't even muster up the energy to wash my face? 

I started researching it; I Googled and then I went on my church's website to see if they had anything about Biblical counseling. I sent an e-mail explaining what I was looking for, what I needed. I filled out an application. And I started working with Lori.  

The day I went to meet her for the first time, it was a snowy day in January.  I sat in the waiting room looking around at the others who were waiting to meet with someone. They all seemed pretty normal, probably exercisers and face washers, in my best estimation.  I suddenly panicked about not bringing tissues; this seemed like something where I should have brought tissues. I was relieved to see a box in the waiting room and hoped there would be box in my counselor's office.

I was surprised at how easy it was to tell my story.  And how comfortable I felt talking with a stranger about what I had been experiencing. She didn't seem to be judging me or taking excessive notes. There was no dramatic lowering of her glasses or suggesting that I really needed to be medicated or placed immediately into a padded room. We just talked about the thoughts that I lived with every day and how I felt anxious all of the time, and she completely normalized and validated how I was feeling. And she read Scripture to me that reminded me of truths that I knew but had either distorted or forgotten about. 

I left her office feeling good about our session; as I proceeded out of the parking lot, immediately my tire blew out on the road outside of her office. In normal circumstances, I would have crumpled to the ground and had a complete panic over this.  Somehow, on this day, I didn't; I surprised myself with how I was able to put things together to get the help I needed and develop a plan. It felt like already, just offloading some of my mental burden had helped me to be able to have enough extra brain space and clarity to handle a difficult situation. 

Lori and I meet every 2 weeks like clockwork now, although the sessions have become much lighter.  I no longer feel like I'm showing up to them white knuckling through life. She has helped me to process things like my tendency to people please, changes in my career that have been difficult, challenges in marriage, a strong desire for children, feelings that I could never be a good parent with all of my emotional baggage. She has helped me to see what is mine to manage and deal with and what isn't. She has helped me to recognize that even when someone is upset with me, it is not always my fault or my issue to deal with- they have their own piece in our conflict or discussion that they own.  She also has taught me so much about neuroplasticity, about how our brains can change and form new pathways.  She has offered hope that I won't be this way forever and that things can change with my thought life. 

One of the other things she has taught me is how to battle the lies I believe with Scriptural truth; she calls them my "as it is written" statements. In Matthew 4, Jesus is tempted in the wilderness by the devil. After fasting for forty days and forty nights, the devil attempts to tempt Jesus three times. With each temptation, Jesus resists and responds with different Biblical truths, each time saying, "As it is written.." This is how Lori has helped me to battle the untruths that run through my head about not being worthy, not being loved, not being enough.  She has me write out the untruth and write out what God says to counter this in the Bible.

Mental health is just like physical health in many ways; there are days when I am really healthy and can identify that my thoughts are in a healthy space, and there are days when I am sick and my thoughts are spiraling again, leading to places of unhealth. I think I'll probably always have some form of support through counseling and am grateful for how this help has transformed many of my relationships. It has helped me to also identify people in my life with unhealthy patterns who I can pray for and encourage; maybe someday I can be part of their inner circle who brings up counseling to them as loved ones did for me. 

I'm so grateful that people in my life told me about this thing that has been such a tool for me in managing my anxiety.  I can't say that it necessarily turned me into an athlete or an expert face washer, but it did help me turn into someone who has the strength and energy to wash my face most days now and take a walk with my dog, and that's really quite something from where we were last year. 

xo,

C