A fool despises good counsel, but a wise man takes it to heart.
—Confucius
Before my son died, I am almost positive I would have rejected any offer for therapy or counseling if it were given to me. I believed therapy was for crazy people, people who had major problems in their life, and I most definitely did not fit in that category. I was normal and normal people did not seek therapy, right?
Now, however, only fourteen months after my son’s death, I am deeply grateful and supremely thankful for the counsel that my therapist provides. Counseling, therapy, guidance—whatever name you choose—it works. And I am a firm believer in the effectiveness and long-term benefits of therapy. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be seeing my grief counselor, but I am especially pleased with the progress I have made along with her guidance. Sometimes, I think I might be stuck without her, without having an unbiased professional who challenges me to analyze my emotions and who prompts me to search for answers on my own. That’s right, I said, “on my own.” I do a lot of the work myself. I think a huge misconception of therapy is that you can go in and let a professional “fix” everything for you, when, in truth, a therapist only guides and aids in processing your emotions.
Additionally, you must desire to get better, because the therapist cannot do it alone. And that’s where I am today—I desire to get better. I crave having a life that is free of flashbacks, a life that is almost exempt of panic attacks. I want to lessen the distress connected with the trauma of the night Knox died. Furthermore, I definitely don’t want to have that level of anxiety forever. I know I need help and I am willing to admit that. So, upon the suggestion of a dear friend I began a different type of therapy called EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) that will supplement my existing grief counseling sessions.
EMDR is highly recommended as an effective form of therapy for the treatment of trauma. Essentially, this therapy rewires the brain to not feel distress when exposed to triggers related to the actual trauma. With the upcoming c-section of my baby girl, I want to do everything I can to minimize the stress of that day. I am terrified of being in that operating room again and I don’t know how I will react, possibly even reliving that traumatic night Knox died. EMDR should alleviate most of the distress I associate with the operating room and will even help me to feel calm and relaxed. I have already completed one session of this therapy and I believe it will truly help me. And I continually pray that this therapy not only allows me to make it through my scheduled c-section, but also that I will reap it’s benefits for the rest of my life.
Five Minus One 