'Complete'

From October 6, 2014

Those who know me well, know that my life is an open book.  What I’m about to share causes me no shame. In fact, I’m very proud to share it. It’s very important for me to do so because if there’s an inkling of a chance that my sharing helps anyone else in any way, then it is well worth it.

Nineteen years ago, I began “family” therapy. Three years later, I was told by a medical professional that I needed, “long-term, intensive psychotherapy.” Upon asking for a recommendation, I landed with a licensed psychologist that I would spend the next 16 years seeing on a regular (at least weekly, sometimes as much as 4 times per week) basis. 

Today marked the end of that journey. With bittersweet emotions, I terminated my therapy relationship today with the person who knows more about me than anyone in my life ever has and ever will. He thanked me for letting him be part of my life. He told me he admired and respected me and he expressed how much he has enjoyed seeing me heal, grow, and transform over the years. He hugged me.

You see, when I was younger – throughout my adolescence and early adulthood - I had a vision of the person that I wanted to become – compassionate, caring, social, engaging, and successful among many other things. The problem was, I had messages in my head – tapes as we say- that told me things like, “that’s for other people, not you” and “you’ll never do that” and “you don’t have what it takes,” etc. The negative messages, on one hand, pressed me to try harder – to work, to strive, to put family first, to be present, and to give back. On the other hand, the same messages (among other things) caused me pain. To relieve the pain, I drank. And I drank more. I drank until I ended up with 3 DUI’s and became mentally and physically incapacitated.

Therapy helped me see what was happening. Slowly, I became willing and able to look at things – at myself - to understand the history around my behavior and to build awareness of it. Over time, the awareness bred change. I got sober. I learned that I was worthy of being cared for – not only by others, but by me. Then I learned to take care of myself – emotionally and physically. Seven years after I got sober, I quit smoking. Then I got in shape. I continue to take care of myself and enjoy doing so every day. It’s so good for the psyche.

As the layers of negativity and pain from the past fell away, I developed self-esteem and self-confidence that carried me through my career and the beginnings of a social life. You see, my doctor said I never really had a sense of self. Essentially, therapy was Michael getting to know Michael. As I did, I began to like this person. Of course, once I began to like Michael, I began to let others like Michael, too. I made friends; I strengthened the friendships I already had. I got closer to my family. My career took off.

I came to terms with my father. I found forgiveness. I learned that my past could be transformed into my future – that those traits that I learned then could be applied today in a different way and contribute to my success as a leader. I slowly began to become “complete.”

Today, I terminated therapy because of exactly that – completeness. I feel complete with my past. I feel complete with myself. I feel complete having an awesome set of tools that my therapist gave me over the years. Those tools have helped me with some of the most difficult times of my life – losing my uncle, watching my Gram deteriorate with Alzheimer’s, watching my dog slowly lose her vigor and love of life. I know today that I can manage these things. I don’t like them. I can manage them. And I will be ok. Perhaps the most significant thing I’ve learned is that I WILL be ok. Being complete doesn’t mean I’ve learned all there is to learn or that I won't continue to learn, grow and work on things. What it means is that I am at a point where I have the tools and wherewithal to continue my journey on my own.

Today I terminated therapy. I have BECOME that person that I always envisioned and wanted to be. I am happy with me. I am complete.