How Zoom became the office of my therapy sessions
People always say that taking the first step is the hardest part of every new experience, especially when what you are trying to do is asking for help. Once you have done it, you kind of know how the process goes, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t be a little bit scared of opening up to a stranger and talking about the things you are struggling with. For me, to do so, I needed somebody who could speak my language and understand my heritage. That’s how I started to have my therapy sessions in New Zealand, with my psychologist living in Chile. God bless Zoom.
By Nicky Goslow
Prior to leaving Chile in 2016, my life started to fall apart a little, so moving overseas helped me to have a fresh start away from home. I was surrounded by people who mostly wanted to have fun, party all night long, and travel the whole world before turning 30. I wanted to be one of them too; forget about the pain and just live my best life on the other side of the world.
In time, there is something that I have learnt and that is that you can pretend and hide your feelings, but you cannot run away from them. Still, I tried to pretend that everything was fine for a few years.
Deep inside I knew I needed help, somebody to talk with about my traumas and hopefully move on, but making the decision wasn’t easy; asking for help can be terrifying sometimes (it was for me). So I avoided it for so long, that I even moved countries in between, visited home and came to live in a new place whilst still trying to put some pieces together. I thought I could make it without letting it out, until I simply couldn’t hold it anymore.
The breakdown
One of the main reasons why it took me so long to start therapy, was that I was living in an English speaking country where mental health is pretty much non-existent. A good bunch of my friends in New Zealand have told me how hard and expensive it was to go to the psychologist and how you could be waiting for months just to get an appointment.
In addition, I knew I needed somebody to talk with in my own language, so I could properly express my feelings, emotions and struggles. I needed to be my own and original self to fully open up.
Talking with two of my best friends, I found out that both of them were starting their therapies with professionals from their home countries. I have heard before that some therapists were willing to do sessions over zoom for people living abroad, and that the practice has become even more popular since the beginning of Covid-19. However, I wasn’t sure that it would be my kind of thing, I thought I needed to talk with somebody face to face, so I used that as an excuse to not ask for help. Until one day I had a massive breakdown at work.
It was a normal morning at the cafe where I work. It wasn’t too busy, everybody was in a good mood, and I was preparing food. Everything felt normal, except for me. I started to feel infuriated by the smallest things. In my head, everybody was gossiping about me or doing things against me. It felt pretty odd, and after the anger came the overwhelming sadness.
Long story short, I went to the bathroom and cried during my whole break (20 minutes) and then another 40 minutes when my boss asked me what was happening. After showing me her support, she sent me home. On my way there I messaged one of my friends -another Chilean- who had started therapy through Zoom just a couple of months before. “I need help”, I texted. He sent me the number of a psychologist straightaway.
I messaged the therapist, Cecilia, explaining what was going on. At the time, I was deciding about my personal and professional future, and while I wanted to go to Europe to do my postgraduate, I knew that I was finally feeling happy in a place that I never imagined as my own home. Deep inside, I was scared of losing everything again and everybody that I have loved, but I also needed a more challenging career, one where I could grow.
The Zoom sessions
Cecilia was a 40 something years old psychologist from Chile. At the time, she was helping three other people living outside of the country (my friend included), but also some people who, due to Covid, have had to use the video conference software to continue their therapies.
I can’t fully recall how it was the first time we talked because I was very nervous and anxious, but I do know that since the very first second, Cecilia opened up a gate that I have kept closed for way too long.
“So, who’s Nicky?”, she said after we introduced ourselves. I told her who I was, what I have been doing for the five years since I left home, what I was doing right now, and who were the people who were part of my life, from the very important ones like my brother and grandma, to my colleagues from my previous and current job.
I could tell how, little by little, I was loosening up the more I shared things about myself. Cecilia made me feel at peace, even when my head was a mess and I couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening to me. But she knew how to get there, and for the first time in my life I experienced how a mental healths professional works with you, how they ask the right questions and how they inquire about those small things that are not as small as we might have first thought.
Our sessions were weekly, sometimes before work or on my days off, but always once a week. My therapist said that was the best way to start, especially after my recent breakdown and all the years that I had been avoiding therapy.
We also had to schedule our sessions according to our different time zones, so they were mostly at 8am in New Zealand and at 4pm (of the previous day) in Chile, whilst one of my friends would help me to pay the sessions back home; I would transfer money to his New Zealand account and he would transfer the money from his Chilean bank to my therapist. I did it that way, but some other people I know had to exchange money with strangers, ask their families, or pay with a credit card from their home countries. There’s always a way.
My healing process
For three months, we reunited in front of a screen. The awkwardness that I felt at the beginning of the journey wasn’t a thing anymore, and the sessions became easier somehow as Cecilia already knew more about my fears, my goals and the person I was. For weeks we had been creating a kind of bond that I have never had before, and through her questions and words, I found answers that I somehow knew were there, but could now see them crystal clear.
At the start, I was afraid of being judged, so I was careful with what I said. But I soon realized that in doing so I was hiding big chunks of the whole plot, parts of a story that had ended up with panic attacks, angst crisis, sleepless nights, and some intense and painful trauma. By showing my therapist the rawest version of myself, she could do her job.
Every session started with her asking me how I was doing, if any thoughts had crossed my mind, if there was something out there disturbing me, if I was feeling alright. The next 59 minutes would be mainly related to whatever my answer was, and through those words I would start to understand why some episodes of my life had such a protagonist kind of role in my daily routine.
The more I talked, the more I comprehended who I was. The more I talked, the more I forgave myself for situations that weren’t even my fault. It was a powerful rollercoaster of emotions built out of memories and tragedies, but session after session, that became lighter and easier to live with.
On the fourth month Cecilia asked me to start having sessions fortnightly, and shortly after that we moved to one Zoom call a month. By month eight my therapist released me saying that she didn’t want me to become too dependent on professional help, particularly as she could see my progress and how different I was from when we started. I could feel it too.
My anxiety had decreased considerably, whilst my head was in a level of peace that I haven’t had in ages. I was more relaxed about my decisions and as soon as something weird started to grow in my chest, I knew how to stop it or - at least - how to treat it.
Nevertheless, the anxiety is still here with me, and I don’t think it will ever leave as I am an over-thinker by nature, but at least now I have some tools to stop it before it becomes a proper monster. I guess the therapies over Zoom did work and were worth it, as the connection wasn’t created over a face to face encounter but through a very deep dialogue about the inner self and its demons, between a professional and a patient, despite their physical space or where they’re at.
Therapy left me stronger than the person that I was, but still aware of the challenges still to come; I’m aware but not scared. And if I ever need some help again -which will probably happen again during my lifetime-, I won’t be as terrified as I was once.
Asking for help and healing slowly is also part of our human experience. We just need to be reminded that it’s ok to not be ok, and that there are people and organizations out there willing to help; you are not alone.
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