Therapy Search
I may have found a therapist. Do I get hopeful?
My life has twisted and turned in a way which has made my entire existence so complicated that I cannot even seem to maintain therapeutic relationships.
Wrong therapy type … new therapist.
Severe trauma in need of attention … new therapist.
Not enough experience … new therapist.
I am exhausted. And, it sucks because I know I have to go for myself and everyone else right now. I do not know how to manage my life. No one explains anything to me, and I am left floundering trying to figure out who I am supposed to be. I am left wading around trying to find something to hold onto… anything… I don’t even care what it is. Just anything to give some sort of solid ground to my understanding of the world and its reality.
It is like being a bird, but then someone tells you not to fly. So, you look around and try to see what everyone else does, so you walk. Like them. But, then, they say you are supposed to swim. So you start swimming, and then you are told you may be able to fly, but you don’t know if you are a bird anymore. So, you frantically flap your wings to try to fly, but your legs are now moving and you don’t know which way to go.
That is the weirdest analogy I have ever come up with, but somehow it makes sense to me.
I found a new therapist, but will we fly? I mean, obviously, I don’t think it is that type of relationship, but am I a bird or have I morphed into some sort of swamp creature? I don’t know? Shouldn’t I know? How can anyone help me if I don’t know?
First, I want to acknowledge the courage it takes to keep searching for the right therapist, especially when the process feels as exhausting and uncertain as you describe. It’s understandable to feel hesitant about getting hopeful when things have been so difficult, but it’s also okay to hold onto a little hope, even if it feels fragile.
Your analogy about being a bird trying to navigate different ways of being—flying, walking, swimming—resonates so much. It captures the confusion of trying to find your footing (or wings) in a world that keeps shifting around you. It makes perfect sense, and it’s not weird at all; it’s a powerful expression of what you’re going through.
You’re not alone in feeling like you’re floundering, and it’s okay not to have all the answers about who you are or where you’re going. What matters is that you’re still trying, still looking for something solid to hold onto, even if it’s difficult to find. Maybe this new therapist could be part of that solid ground, but being cautious is also okay.
Whether you’re a bird, a walker, a swimmer, or something else, your journey matters. And wherever it takes you, you deserve support that helps you navigate it. It’s okay to hope for that, and it’s okay to take it one step, one flap, one stroke at a time."
