Group Therapy Helped Me Accept My Imperfection, and I'm Thrilled!

TL;DR

I thought therapy aimed to point out errors in my thinking, but in truth, it was to help me feel okay with my imperfections.

Why I Attend Group Counseling

Thanks to a recommendation by my department chair, I learned that BYU offers free counseling services to full-time students through the Counseling and Psychology Services (CAPS) Center (CAPS). I initially got involved with CAPS because I wanted to understand why I was procrastinating on completing my dissertation.

I began receiving individual counseling over a year ago. Soon after that, I found my way to a group class called "Group Processing." Group counseling was uncomfortable for me at first, mostly because I wasn't sure what I was supposed to get out of it. My whole life up to that point had been structured with purpose and explicit guidelines on how to get there. Group Counseling was like surviving an emotional jungle. There were no explicit expectations. It was an aboriginal walkabout while seated. 

Eventually, I learned to let go of the need for a script and just learn to listen and relate to people. Here's a list of things that make Group Processing unique:

1. Learning done in the Group is primarily self-directed. The low-pressure environment encourages self-reflection and lasting growth.  
1. All group participants are self-selected—meaning they choose to be there. We get to communicate and connect with peers who are equally interested in self-improvement.
2. There is no assigned homework or grades. Any thinking or work done outside of class is self-motivated.
2. I get to practice attending to my present thoughts and emotions. The group has become a cherished moment for mindfulness practice for me.
3. Having a safe environment to facilitate REAL conversations—free from judgment and expectations— feels so good. I’m learning that people like the imperfect me more than the seemingly perfect one. And so do I. While we get to say whatever we want, group leaders (professional counselors) are present to guide discussion and offer (often mind-blowing) contextual insights regarding our interactions with other group members that I would have never noticed on my own. I get to bring who I am (and how I relate to people) into a clinical setting and get feedback on my real-life interactions. I get to test out the beliefs I have about myself. E.g., "Is this weird?"
4. I get tons of practice empathizing with others. Hearing about others' struggles always seems to make me feel more grateful for mine. This helps me be more self-compassionate.
5. Most importantly, I am constantly reminded that I don't need to hustle for validation. On day one, we share why we're attending and that sets a tone of equality and compassion. 
6. Some conversations are difficult to listen to. It's a terrific practice just to sit with painful emotions (my own and others) without turning to some coping/self-soothing strategy (e.g., trying to “make things better,” laughing it off, ignoring it, distracting myself, or caring for myself through some other form of escape). It's like an emotional resistance workout. I'm usually exhausted afterward.
7. I trust my peers to tell me the truth for a number of reasons. They care about me. Truth is what we all want and a group expectation. There are moderators ready to step in if needed. The relationship stakes are low since we rarely see each other outside those walls.

Note: I didn't even realize that I wanted to work on these fundamental issues until I started attending.

A Typical Day in Group

Here's what a typically 90-minute class/session looks like:

Seven to ten BYU students (ages 18-48) stagger between 1-1:05pm. We all make idle chit-chat, usually feeling self-absorbed and down regarding the respective things we don't like about ourselves as we prepare to sometimes-reticently flay our souls before one another. Once our two group leaders indicated that it was time to begin at about 1:10pm, we elected to give ourselves time to do brief "check-ins," where we indicate our current emotional state—specifically what's going on for us, right now, in the room. If we want more time later to address issues for the day, we let the group know. Then we just sit in a circle and talk about whatever until 2:30pm.

At first, I'd try to get away with sharing "what's on my mind." But it didn't fly with the group leaders, Jennie and Russ. Meaningful participation requires regular physical attendance and deliberate emotional effort. As difficult emotions arise, I observe my habit of coping with negative feelings by studying the situation cognitively. I attempt to differentiate my thoughts and feelings by requesting to explore my primary emotions with the group around something that was said. (A lot of meta-conversation goes on that rarely occurs outside the Group, IRL.)

Surprisingly, the simple act of talking and listening can be emotionally exhausting. I deserve a nap. I remember feeling so drained one day after class that I had to recover for the remainder of the day. Apparently, this happens so frequently that they have a name for it. It's something like "therapy hangover," but I can't remember the exact term.

After only a few sessions in the group, I realized how disconnected I was from myself. I realized that I spend the majority of time up in my head and fail to attend to anything emotional throughout the day (my life). It's hard for me to confront my emotions because negative ones are uncomfortable, a sign that something is "wrong" and, therefore, unacceptable to me (shame). I find joyful emotions foreboding due to their non-permanent nature.

Conclusion

Group processing is an incredible learning tool and personal growth catalyst for me. It feels like a social laboratory where I can experiment with new (scary) responses to old triggers in a messy yet safe environment. Every time I leave a session—aside from experiencing a huge emotional hangover—I have identified one to three new insights about myself that I like to practice throughout the week. These seem to have a dramatic and immediate positive effect on how I treat myself and others.

For example, one insight I've learned is that my overactive mind is one of my greatest strengths and also one of my most blinding weaknesses. I have the capacity to help others by logically helping them overcome irrational lines of reason. But I also use that capacity to hide from uncomfortable situations. For example, this week, I learned from a friend that he and his girlfriend mutually broke up. I didn't say anything in the social situation where I overheard it, but I texted him later that night. Instead of simply dropping a condolence and sharing a funny GIF to cheer him up, I opened myself to dialoguing about it (even though it would be really uncomfortable for me to do so. I said, "If you want someone to talk to, call me anytime. I'm available all day Wednesday." I'm still not totally open emotionally, but I'm making great strides for which I'm proud.

When I began Group Processing, I remember asking myself if the time investment was worth it. Some days, I didn't even get to share anything about myself at all! But in hindsight, I would respond with an emphatic yes! I could have made no greater time investment on Mondays from 1-3pm. The positive effects of Group have acted like a viral antidote in every other dimension of my life, not just in my social relationships. I eat better. I sleep better. I like myself and others more. I feel more productive mentally, both at school and at work. I feel closer to God.

I thought going to therapy would be like developing a muscle—breaking down weakness and rebuilding myself so that I would be tougher and more skilled so that I could cruise through any relationship unscathed by emotional harm. I hoped to identify and repair any chinks in my armor so that I could wear a perma-smile all day.  (This is why I got into Crucial Conversations and VitalSmarts' other training material. I was hoping that I could learn tips and skills to help me more deftly navigate theoretical interpersonal relationships before developing any significant real ones. (Because I didn't want to "mess any up" before they had even begun.) [Cough] *Perfectionism!*

However, the opposite of armor building was the answer I was actually looking for—armor dismantling or FEELING. I had to let go of my arguments, rationale, and anything else going on in my head and attend to (and share) the feeling in my heart. It was my armor that was preventing me from experiencing true joy. I learned that in order to find the happiness I craved, I would need to remove my emotional armor and open myself up to injury, which is still a terrifying thought for me. And I'm trying to do it anyway. #thanksbrené

Self-Assigned Homework For This Semester

This new semester (Winter 2019), I want to be more intentional about my growth. I have identified a few practical behaviors that I want to practice doing less:

• Advice giving (avoidance)
• Helping other people before attending to my own well-being (boundaries)
• Attempting to control my feelings or suppress them (or insist that they be positive)
• Keeping things secret (shame)

To counteract these natural tendencies, I intend to practice the following:

• Reporting "I feel like giving you advice" — but not doing it
• Asking for help, letting myself be helped
• Experiencing my feelings and exploring them
• Disclosing something about myself that is hard (shameful) to say

An Invitation to the Reader

If you are interested in looking into group therapy yourself, here are some general tips I have found to be most helpful in getting started:

• Suspend judgment — try to delay making judgments about the value of your experience until after an appropriate adjustment period. Anything new will seem weird and uncomfortable.
• Start from where you are — not where you think (or others think) you should be. Be honest.
• Attend consistently — unlike individual therapy, group success depends on the health of the relationships inside the group; if you are present, your relationship ties will be weak, and you won't get as much out of it.
• Think out loud — you can only get help from others if you can get it out of your head.
• Focus on the "here and now" — it's all too easy to get wrapped up in my thoughts and feelings about the past and future. No one else is there. You are all here now. Staying present to stay productive in the group.
• Experiment with new behaviors — e.g., what I described myself wanting to do above.
• Offer support and understanding before advice — Most people only need support and understanding. But even if they request practical advice, it seems to always be best to first attend to the emotions surrounding the issue.
• Give and receive feedback — One of the best (growth-inducing) things a group has to offer is the advantage of getting input from several people instead of just one therapist. Take advantage of this!

Therapy still has a negative stigma. For most people I've observed, it's still uncomfortable to admit that "there must be something wrong with me" if I see a counselor. But the truth is there is something wrong with everyone! Seeking help is not a cause for shame. I've found that when I've shared my deepest, darkest secrets with others, the occasional few have been uncomfortable, but I have felt nothing but compassion and understanding from everyone in the end. Those positive experiences have helped me get to a place where, if someone in the future does think poorly of me for being my imperfect self, I have developed the self-confidence and boundaries sufficient to think of that as their problem. My point is, I won't think of you any less if you choose to tell me you see a counselor. Rather, I see it as a mark of bravery and would feel thrilled for you that you care enough to seek the professional help you desire. Unfortunately, the class I'm taking is only free for BYU students. However, non-BYU students can access different kinds of subsidized one-on-one counseling and group sessions (maybe $10/6) via BYU's Comprehensive Clinic.