The last time I went to psychotherapy

psychotherapy for depression

I remember the last time I went to my psychotherapy. I remember it better, than I did any of the other hundred times I sat on that bench and talked. And cried. I cried a lot.

I don’t remember everything we talked about, but I do remember some minutes. A few details, that stuck in my mind and will probably stay there as important moments forever.

The last time I went to therapy. That was the time – for the first time ever really – that I truly and purely cried from happiness. My therapist was always super professional, the best therapist I could hope for. She never showed emotion, cried with me or did anything else, that would have been uncanny. But for a second there, I swear I saw her eyes water just a tiny bit.

Happiness and sadness – they are not the opposites. Pain and joy walk hand in hand through the twisted roads, through the dark forests and into the blue waters. There can’t be one without the other. I had pain, but somehow that pain had transformed into raw, imminent and imperfect happiness.

We had several different lessons during my therapy. But the final lesson, the final assignment is what I remember the best. It went as follows: Picture yourself as a young girl, sitting under a tree. If you had a chance to go there right now, what would you say to that little girl, to yourself?

And I wanted to say everything. I wanted to hold the girl in my arms and brush her tangled hair. I wanted to lull her to sleep, and tell her that there were no monsters in this world.

I wanted to tell her, that she turned out to be a master piece. That the little bruises and cracks suited it perfectly, and that no one even saw them. And that her world turned out beautiful and good. And that she would have so much, that it couldn’t all be listed.

And I wanted to assure her, that she was perfect. That she was enough – more than enough. And I don’t know if she would have got scared, if I told her that I was her. That she should look at me – how I survived and I was standing there now.

When I finally opened my mouth to say something, she turned to face me and looked straight into the familiar eyes. And I didn’t have to say a word, when we just sat there, quiet and in peace.

And that’s when I smiled, cried and knew, that I would get through anything, that life would give me. 

Psychotherapy was (besides some other things) one of the most important things to help me battle depression. No one else can give you tools and help to depression, as professionals do (=psychotherapists, psychologists or psychiatrists). You’ll never read a post from this blog, where I tell you how to work out your depression – I am not your guru and I will never become one. I can only talk about my own experience, share my thoughts and tell you, that I do believe in getting better. I read a great column (in Finnish, by Maaret Kallio) a while back, which title kinda says it all: “When your mind is broken, you shouldn’t seek help from the powers of the universe or healing hands – Even a smart person can stray to easy promises.”

The next question might be a bit personal, but feel free to share if you want to; Have you gone to therapy?

I understand you

depression beauty blogging

dresden germany by night

.. even for just a little bit.

I want to get back to the subject I wrote about recently, when I shared my story about severe depression (here). I’m not sure what I expected out of the post, but I’m beyond happy, that you took it so well. Apparently many people out there feel like it’s a good thing to talk about it. I think so too.

Depression is something I went through about five years ago. It feels like it was a hundred years ago – or happened in another life. I know some people think depression is chronical, but I think it’s also something that can be cured.

depression mental health blog

So why am I just now talking about it?

I think I needed those years to pass, before I wanted to think about the whole subject again. I couldn’t have written about it before – I wouldn’t have had the strength to or the right words. I still struggle with words, though. The topic is so fragile, I’m afraid I’m gonna break it. We all experience depression or anxiety differently. We all experience mental health differently. But what’s in common with all of us – is that we all do have mental health.

Nowadays I consider myself to be “depression free” (I don’t have any medications anymore, not for a few years now – and there’s not ‘depression’ on my health records  anymore), but that doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes struggle. We all struggle. If you break your leg once, it’s gonna be a little fragile for a while – and easier to break the next time, right? I’m forever carrying the painful memories and every once in a while I feel like I have to look back, just to remember that I’m on the right path and things could be so much worse.

In my blog I talk about superficial things. I share my makeup looks, my outfits. I travel and talk about the good little things. I spread positivity. But I want you to know where I come from –  I didn’t just get to where I am by walking on sunshine.

I want to keep talking about mental health every once in a while here. I want to conveniently – or not so conveniently – pair it with makeup posts and the beautiful products I love. I want to do style posts and share my outfit photos – because I don’t have to hide myself anymore and the smile you see in the photos is real. I want to tell stories about all the countries I’ve visited – because I never knew I was gonna be able to see them. I want to write, because it’s one of the gifts I have.

depression my story blog

I am so thankful for the life I’m living right now. I love my life. I no longer wake up in the morning and instantly want to get back to sleep – I want to get up and be there for myself and others. And even though I’m in a good place right now with my life, I still understand you. And I encourage you. You can do it too – I believe there is hope for everyone.

It doesn’t matter where you are now.

You may be curled up in your bed with all the curtains closed. You may be in a hospital staring at the blank walls and your quiet roomies. You may be broke. You may be broken. You may be holding your breath with nothing, but yesterday in your hands.

And the worst of all: you may be alone. You may be the most alone you’ve ever been, doubting your existence.

There might be a whole continent between us, but know this:

I understand you.

And one day, be it five years or ten years from now, you’ll understand too.

The pictures are from Dresden, Germany from July.  We did a quick visit to the city and in that time we got to see beautiful buildings, eat delicious burgers, see a festival (and sing along to some familiar songs) and drive 200 km/h on a freeway. The makeup photo is from a video tutorial, which can be found here.