By Cantor Mike Zoosman, M.A., BCC….O.C.D.
How’s that for an epitaph? On my more difficult days, that pretty much sums up how I feel – the pathology defines me. With years of therapy and meds, and a whole lot of mindfulness, I’m getting better at reining in those moments, but…everything’s a process, I suppose?
The truth is, it took about three years of therapy for me to be okay with the idea that I was in therapy – the same again when I began psychiatric meds. Looking back on two decades of treatment, I wish I could say now that this was all on me. My own insecurities and doubt certainly have played no small part in this anxious dance, but an equally culpable party is – as many readers of this blog already know – society itself.
I don’t claim to have any new insights here. I’m sure many…
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