About

Seeking therapy is a hard decision to make.

Hello! I assume you’ve made your way to my website with at least some trepidation. You feel somewhat unconvinced that an outsider without knowledge of your situation can make a significant difference.

Thinking that this is something you should be able to solve on your own profoundly resonates with me.

I felt apprehension about the next step.

I was in the same boat. Feeling lousy and making game plans that turned into lost hope was the definition of how I was living my life at one point. It wasn’t until my humbling and vulnerable moment of reaching out for help that I believed therapy is an effective practice that can bring change to the lives of others.

It was a cold, sunny Saturday, and my plan was to go to work at 12 p.m. At the time, I worked at an upscale department store. I’d recently earned a graduate degree in Organizational Science from The George Washington University and worked in the Human Resources department.

At about 5:30 a.m., I awoke from a deep sleep in a sea of sweat and panic. I was disoriented and scared, terrified, actually. I took a cold, 15-minute shower, hoping this would shake me out of whatever state I was in. It didn’t help.

I got dressed and went downstairs, desperate to feel any relief. I took two shots of Captain Morgan rum and went for a walk. At this point, it was about 6:00 a.m. and my mind raced, my hands shook, and I had trouble taking breaths. I felt utterly disconnected from my body and reality and thought I had lost my mind. I made my way back to the house and tried to lie down. The problem was that I couldn’t sit still. I felt worse when I was idle and figured out I had to keep moving, doing anything that could distract me from how I felt.

This moment was decisive for me.

At about 10:00 a.m., with no real improvement, I decided to call out of work. As the morning went on, I felt pretty much the same, with only small breaks from my panic.

Later in the afternoon, I could no longer manage what I was experiencing and was desperate for whatever this was to STOP and went to urgent care. The doctor knew what I was experiencing because she had suffered a panic attack on the same scale. She reassured me that I had not lost my mind and would be ok.

We discussed a treatment plan, and she emphasized the importance of getting a therapist and medication. I did just that.

I met with my therapist for over one year. We delved into my past and present, and I admitted things I had been hiding for years. I learned the maladaptive behaviors I demonstrated that I had normalized and discovered that I had lived with undiagnosed depression and anxiety for years. The good news is that I got better and have been panic-attack-free for 16 years.