For context: I wrote this a few years ago as a reflection about my own experience with an integrative wellness coach.
I hadn’t opened my “coaching notes” for a few years, yet it is so interesting to find writings from the past, and to reflect on the progress that I have made both tangibly (and there has been a lot) and intangibly (in the way I feel, the way I see myself).
My intention with it was to share some iteration of it publicly, as a way to spark thought and perhaps conversation about seeking help and guidance when it comes to mental / emotional health.
It has been tremendously meaningful to me when those who I look up to share their own experiences. It has motivated me to take action on what may be bothering me, as well as to remind me that I am not alone in any of this. I hope my own story can be that for someone else.
The breaking point: my winter
A little over a year ago, feeling very unsettled mentally and unable to figure out why (was it overwhelm? anxiety? listlessness? disconnection?), I sought “professional help”.
I have had pretty strong anxiety my whole life, and in my early 30s, big, life-shaking events and global circumstances put me in a not-so-great place, both mentally and emotionally.
My own “breaking point” was not what I had witnessed in others, nor was it even recognizable to me as such. It didn’t even really feel like a breaking point, rather a series of fissures that seemed to be extending outwards.
It was characterized by insomnia, irrational decision-making, and unreasonable personal demands. I had serious momentum and lacked the ability to stop. To rest. To take care of myself.
I don’t believe many people knew what was happening with me as (I believe) I managed to hide it fairly well. Then once the global pandemic hit, it seemed that no one among us just was “doing well” and struggle became the norm.
As time went on, externally, things largely “got better”. So seemingly did many of the people around me.
Yet I remained stagnant, and in fight / flight / fright mode. It felt almost worse being out of the acute stage, as everything seemed to be improving. Yet inside, I was not.
Seeking help
I wasn’t exactly sure what to look for (coaching? counseling? psychotherapy?) or how it would work once I found it. But I was ready for some kind of change and I recognized that I straight-up needed help in doing so.
I found Lee Nadeau — an integrative wellness coach and LPC — through a fortuitous Google search. Despite being the first person I contacted and had contact with, I already knew I vibed with him in the initial call, and felt he would be my guy.
An outdoorsy and well-studied dude, he was also someone who (like me) had lived abroad.
Someone who clearly had both feet fully on the ground, yet also seemed to possess a perfect amount of what some may call “woo-woo.” (And what I call “cognizant that health care ought to be holistic; moreover, that it has a history and tradition far older and more vast than our Western style of care may have us believe”).
After connecting with him, I became clear on one thing: I wanted to make a commitment (to him, to myself) to meet weekly, for a full year. This was a relatively arbitrary choice. Yet it seemed to somehow fit the amount of angst I was feeling at the time.
Financially, I didn’t really feel like I could swing it, but he made it possible in that he had a sliding scale to be able to work with a broader and more diverse subset of people).
So I made the leap to do it. I am a late-in-life subscriber to moderate discipline and routine. And quite simply, I was curious to see where it would lead me.
Climbing the hill
We met once a week, rain or shine. Sometimes life was great. Sometimes I felt weird — off, somehow. Yet I don’t remember a session where I came out feeling worse; more tender, perhaps, but always feeling as though something had moved.
We chatted about many different things. I didn’t go into to discuss my past, but naturally it came up (my childhood, recently-ended marriage, or work).
We would always circle back to how those experiences shaped my present day self, and informed my values, goals, and purpose.
And to my original intention, this process was instrumental in putting some of the puzzle pieces into place which would help me make some important decisions about the person I wanted to go forward in life being
I laughed. I cried. I talked — a lot. It was especially interesting to identify how meaningful past experiences likely affected the way I felt about present-day situations. This felt like a very important tool to be able to continue my life with.
He listened. Gave me resources. Introduced new concepts. Asked very good questions. Repeated things back to me that I found myself saying. Encouraged self-care, reflection, moderation.
Sometimes I felt like he’d “Jedi mind-tricked” me (and I had already known a lot of this, all along).
A commitment to myself
He became my supporter and accountability person. Someone who kept me honest and taking action on the things that I found myself saying that I wanted to do.
I certainly could have read about the concepts he introduced me to, or learned about them on my own. I could have continued leaning on my family / friends for advice / comfort.
Yet the fact that I committed to speaking to him (a stranger / experienced counselor and with no real stake other than helping me), mattered. The fact that we met weekly, regardless of whether or not I felt like I had something meaningful to discuss, mattered.
And I am happy to say that over a year later, I really do feel so very much better. I feel fortunate in this regard, that it turned out I just had some good, old-fashioned processing to do, and that this method helped exponentially. I know that for others, that may not be the case.
There were some stones in my river that needed to be moved in order to let the water flow freely.
I am still meeting with him, albeit less frequently now. But my plan is to stick with it. It feels like such a valuable relationship to have cultivated, one that feels incredibly healing and comforting.
A lifelong lesson
All of this is to say that, despite my life-long reticence to ever get coaching / counseling / therapy (believing I was “fine” and able to just disregard or move past things that may have hurt me), I am now a huge proponent of it — for absolutely anyone / everyone.
We all have traumas or outright Traumas. That’s okay, and doesn’t mean we cannot overcome those and live well, to be the best versions of ourselves for ourselves and for others. It doesn’t mean we are broken, weak, or dwelling arbitrarily on the past.
What I have learned is that whatever is deep in the well, hidden by the hectic surface, will come out, eventually. Likely, in the most challenging moments of our lives.
If left unchecked, it will also likely hurt those around us. It will likely be perpetuated into future generations.
BUT. If we take the time to submerge ourselves, even briefly, to examine it — with a skilled helper, someone who has tools to help us navigate and deal with whatever may be there — we will begin to heal.
We will have seen it, become acquainted with it, and we will learn how to manage it. We will gain important tools to evolve, to live life well, to become the best versions of ourselves.
Mental health for overall health
When I was in my early 20s, I started seeing a chiropractor for a persistent spinal issue (caused by a physical trauma) which was having far-reaching ramifications on my life. It began as a more acute style care at 2-3 times/week, and as time went on, it went down to weekly, then bimonthly, then monthly. Now I go as needed.
I simply never considered that the same could apply to mental / emotional traumas and their care. Now, it seems so obvious.
I believe that we ought to treat mental health care just as we treat our physical health care. It’s not even that the two are “deeply connected”; they are one and the same.
It’s a tragedy of the times that we are in (fraught with tenuous mental and emotional health), that care for which is inaccessible to most people. I commit to putting some thought and action into what, if anything, I can do to help change that.
For now, I just want to contribute to the conversation. I have been the person (and have had many people in my life) for whom admitting they have “issues”, never mind addressing them, is completely off-limits. I feel this is an outdated way of thinking, and hope that increased conversation will help normalize it.
