Attending therapy sessions proved to be a challenging journey for me. Each session was full of tears, a sense of heaviness, and moments of heartbreak. There were days when I struggled to muster the strength to attend, wrestling with the paradox of a therapeutic tool meant to heal, yet feeling like it was crushing me further. My therapist's non-stop questioning often felt intrusive as if she was probing and testing the depths of my intelligence. I couldn't shake the discomfort I felt with being questioned; it stirred a deep-seated fear within me. In response, I would carefully craft my answers, seeking to show intelligence and competence at every turn. It felt crucial to have everything figured out as if my worth depended on it. This pattern of presenting myself as someone who had all the answers had become ingrained in me, a survival mechanism to navigate through life. However, I wasn't consciously aware of it because it occurred subconsciously. Unlike brief meetings with others, where I could easily part ways after superficial interactions, my weekly sessions with my therapist intensified my anxiety. Each session brought forth a storm of questions, sending me deeper into a state of unease.
The anxiety I felt during therapy sessions confused me. I couldn't communicate why I feared my therapist's questions so much, but I felt intense pressure to provide perfect answers. Each question she posed seemed to peel away layers of my self-image, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. It was as if she was taking apart the protective barriers I had built around myself, layer by layer. This process left me feeling unsettled and unsafe, as if the very nature of who I was was being laid bare. I resisted her probing, refusing to engage with her questions at times, determined to maintain some pretense of control. Yet, her silent stare felt intrusive, as if she was delving into the depths of my soul. The thought of her seeing through my defenses filled me with discomfort and unease.
Despite my initial defiance towards my therapist’s questions, I couldn't help but reflect on them once I returned home. Through these reflective moments, I made startling discoveries that left me utterly dumbfounded. It dawned on me that the trauma I endured during my childhood had given birth to a protective persona I call the Imposter. This persona, characterized by an extensive sense of guardedness and distrust, served as a shield against further harm. Always vigilant, she kept her guard up, viewing the world as a dangerous place where everyone posed a potential threat. The Imposter took the lead in every aspect of my life, banishing the real me to the shadows. Whether navigating social interactions, school, or work, she remained loyal in her role as protector. Her ability to adapt to any situation, much like a chameleon, was essential for survival in a hostile world. With this realization came a flood of understanding. I finally understood why I had always felt like an outsider, why I couldn't form genuine connections, and why I struggled to understand my own identity. Due to the trauma and rejection I experienced during childhood, I became an actor to avoid further pain. I learned to put on a performance to avoid rejection, to conceal my vulnerabilities to prevent being hurt, and to build walls to protect myself from harm. Throughout my life, I wore a mask to hide what I perceived as my shortcomings, to shield myself from harm, and to project an image of intelligence and beauty. My entire life had been a performance, a continuous pursuit for approval and validation. The exhausting task of presenting the best version of myself, of faking competence and confidence definitely took its toll. But I persevered, driven by the fear of rejection and the scars of past trauma.
Sitting before my therapist, tears streaming down my face, I confronted the harsh truth: everything I thought I knew about myself was a lie. I was a stranger to my own being, a puzzle with missing pieces. Yet, in that moment of despair, my therapist offered a glimmer of hope. She assured me that this was an opportunity, a rare chance to embark on a journey of self-discovery. Though her words initially seemed confusing, as I sat there, overwhelmed by feelings of being lost, empty, and confused about where to begin my journey of self-discovery, over time, I began to embrace this idea of self-exploration with a sense of curiosity and determination. Three years later, I can testify to the transformative power of that journey. While the Imposter still lingers, her grip on me has loosened. Through faith and introspection, I have learned to embrace my authenticity and recognize my inherent worth. I am no longer chained by the voices of doubt and self-criticism that once held me captive. Instead, I find comfort in the unwavering love of my Creator, who sees me as I truly am: fearfully and wonderfully made. With each passing day, I shed the layers of falsehood and embrace the truth of my identity, freed from the mask that once concealed my true identity.
If you or anyone you know is struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, please contact SADAG on 0800 567 567 ASAP.
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