*Thank you to Donna of Kia Maia for allowing us to share this piece. You can see more of her content here and her website here.*
If only it was as easy as clicking my heels but, much like Dorothy, I’m on a mission to have the wizard give me directions and solve all my problems. “Take me home, Toto,” I think to myself, wishing for a simpler path. In the past, I haven’t had a great time with talk therapy, and if I’m honest I thought I was doing ‘fine.’ But even though the years of self-care therapies have been nice, they are only a short-term bandage. I had to find the courage to try again, so I’m off to see the wizard.
Looking at a list of ACC-sensitive claims therapists was so overwhelming I shut the computer for another day. How was I going to choose who to see? The sheer number of options was paralysing. In the end, I phoned a friend for a recommendation. Despite dragging my feet, I did it; I reached out with a deep exhale. What surprised me was how lovely everyone I spoke to in the initial stages was. Fear almost won - the fear of judgement, the fear of having to tell a stranger my story, the fear of rejection, the fear of how hard it would be. I wasn’t going to give the Wicked Witch of Fear the satisfaction; I was on the yellow brick road, and I wasn’t going back.
It was time to face the fact that I needed to get an assessment and diagnosis instead of assuming and floundering around trying to fix myself. I owed it to myself and my family to be happy and the best version of myself. The day came, and I was partially excited. It was too late to back out now. I was instantly put at ease with a friendly face and a softly spoken, comfortable voice. The wizard was at work immediately and my fears packed their bags. There was no judgement; I could have been talking to a friend rather than a stranger. I blurted and cried and unloaded and vented and cried some more.
Leaving the Emerald City of the therapist’s office, I felt a renewed sense of courage and heart, and my brain felt slightly less frazzled. I experienced genuine hope and positivity. No longer did I have to figure out what my brain was doing on my own. Sometimes, our imagination has the best intentions and goes into protection mode, but for me to move forward and stop the mouse wheel of trauma, I needed to hit it head-on.
The road ahead is bound to have trials and more winged monkeys of doom in my path, but I have a determination to free myself from the stronghold of PTSD. My journey has just begun, but I’m committed to seeing it through. I know there will be tough days and moments when I might want to turn back, but I’m stronger than I give myself credit for.
As I continue down my yellow brick road, I’m reminded that asking for help is not a sign of weakness but of strength. It takes courage to admit we can’t do it all on our own, and even more courage to seek out those who can help guide us. The wizard may not have all the answers, but with their help, I can find my way.
Each step I take is a step towards healing, towards understanding myself better, and towards a future where I am not defined by my fears or my past. I’m learning that it’s okay to be vulnerable, to let others see the parts of me that are still healing. It’s through this vulnerability that real growth happens.
So here I am, off to see the wizard, not with a naive belief that they will magically solve everything, but with a renewed faith in the process of healing and self-discovery. The road may be long and winding, but I’m walking it with purpose, one step at a time, knowing that each step brings me closer to home.
-Donna
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