Junk in the Trunk

When I started therapy almost a year ago, I had no idea what to expect. Aside from seeing a doctor as a child to end my night terrors, the only therapy I’ve had was over twenty years ago and it was in a group setting. I didn’t participate much because no one was forced to share or talk, and I was 20 years old, feeling very alone and didn’t want to exist anymore. The last thing I wanted to do was be vulnerable, especially to strangers.

I imagine the first few visits with a therapist is a little uncomfortable for anyone. Starting therapy while in a pandemic when many doctors’ offices are closed is no different. The first time I spoke to my therapist, we were on the phone for nearly an hour and I felt like I could have talked to her forever. But I don’t think it was until 6 or 8 months into treatment that I stopped experiencing anxiety in the couple hours before a session.

While doing therapy via video chat has its advantages – no driving to and from appointments, no need to get dressed (though I do) – it also has its disadvantages. One of them, because of quarantine, is the lack of privacy. Everyone is home and it makes finding a quiet place to be alone difficult.

I initially drove to a nearby parking lot where I could be alone and soak in a little sun at the same time. But that ended after a few weeks because of the interruptions in the internet service. My therapist kindly reminded me that our time together is valuable and that I deserve to be able to use all 60 minutes. She requested that I stay home for sessions where the internet is more reliable. While that is true, again, finding a place where I’d be undisturbed was still a challenge.

Because it was summer time, I elected to start doing my sessions in the garage. I’d set up a workspace last spring to attend a virtual writing workshop. I had a table with a neutral-colored blanket spread across the top, a recliner that we no longer use in the house and a nice view of the outside. This worked great for a while. But nice weather meant kids running in and out causing frequent interruptions.

When this space was no longer the best option, I began doing sessions from the back of my car. This is less than ideal but it wasn’t much different than my parking lot sessions, only now I was tucked in the space between the back seat and rear door instead of in the front seat. By this time, fall was near and the temperature was just beginning to go down. Having the option to be “inside” meant I could stay warm but also be in a private space. I was able to plug in my laptop using an extension cord and most times I’m not interrupted.

The back of my van quickly became my safe space and I made the joke to my therapist that I was leaving the “junk in the trunk.” She chuckled a bit but it’s also fitting.

While the topics discussed in therapy aren’t junk, it’s a good place to sort through the clutter that’s filling the mind. Several years ago, I wrote a piece about finding a box in my closet full of tangled up wires. You know when you plug in various things to your TV and though you don’t crisscross or tie the cords together, they ultimately end up that way? The same thing happens if you put them in a box. How does this happen??

Anyway, I often imagine if I could see inside my brain, I would find a similar situation. There’s a lot going on and often times it doesn’t all make sense. What I’ve learned from working with my therapist and my mentor is that we can begin to untangle this mess we feel we’re trapped in one step at a time.

Rather than looking at the big messy pile as one big wad of confusion, frustration and turmoil, we can examine each component separately. We can grab onto one end of one element and treat it with great care and compassion, as though it’s the only thing troubling us. Doing this piece by piece, the once seemingly endless pile becomes smaller and smaller. Sure, other complications will arise and maybe the mess will never be obsolete. But getting it to a point where it’s manageable, rather than nonexistent, is the goal.

A crucial part of being able to manage the mess is recognizing our own role in its accumulation. I learned early in therapy and my mentor program that the things I consider to be monumental and defeating are, in fact, not so uncommon and not as powerful as I’m allowing them to be. We will always be faced with situations and challenges that are out of our control. But each one is an opportunity to learn, grow and use the tools we’ve been given to overcome it. Personal contributions to the mess could be paralleled to that of our successes. Nothing is handed to us. It doesn’t matter who our parents are, where we went to school, what clothes we wear, etc. To achieve anything, we have to put in some work.

I’ve learned I often don’t embrace opportunities because I’m scared of failing. Whether or not I do is not up to me. What is up to me is taking a chance, trying and doing my best. A few months ago, I was presented with two new opportunities at work – a leadership program and a mentorship program. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do either. I was recommended for the leadership program the previous year and was not accepted. I wasn’t ready to be rejected again, let alone twice. I sought advice from a friend who said this – I don’t know if you’ll get accepted or not but I do know if you don’t apply, you definitely won’t.

I applied to both. I was not accepted to either. And then I moved on. It was a bit of a disappointment but knowing I tried and offered the best of myself by giving the most honest answers I could to the questions I was asked was its own success, and that was all I could do.

I’ve also learned my own resistance makes any situation much worse than it is. No one wants to feel pain, sadness, frustration, or any other negative emotion. But trying to fight off the negativity often does the opposite of what we desire. Instead of getting rid of it, it multiplies. If we can accept the negative emotion, recognize its cause and in an objective manner decide what to do about it, we’ll find ourselves to be more at peace.

This idea is not any different than the concept described in The Secret by Rhonda Byrne when she says "If you can think about what you want in your mind, and make that your dominant thought, you will bring it into your life." Think of when you get a new car, or want a new car, and suddenly, everywhere you go, you see that kind of car. The same idea is shared in the Bible in Matthew 15:17 – “Don’t you see that whatever enters the mouth goes into the stomach and then out of the body?” The lesson is taught in Buddhism as “The mind is everything. What you think, you become.” And you can find dozens of other teachings that provide the same lesson – whatever we’re putting our energy into is what’s going to thrive.

I’ve spent many hours trying to accept this idea because it’s much easier to blame my depression and anxiety. For too long, I’ve gotten away with blaming anything or anyone but myself as the cause for my unhappiness. Yes, I have a clinical diagnosis and some of it is due to a chemical imbalance. But I can decide what to do with it. I can choose to let it overpower me or I can take the power back. I can use the tools I’ve been given and make my adversary small. I can choose to carry around the frustrations, give into the negative thinking and spiral out of control, or I can welcome it as it comes, accept its presence and then move on. I can proceed without it. I can leave the junk in the trunk.