Do I need therapy? I didn't think I did.

I wasn't depressed. I wasn't in crisis. I just wasn't myself anymore. This is why I started therapy and why you don't have to hit rock bottom.

The quiet grapple of feeling weighed down and holding together lives in the mind forever. From never having to ask this question, I started therapy when I did hit rock bottom. Lonely, lost, and trying to make sense of what was happening to me. Who am I becoming?

I didn't have any major traumatic experience, but the small incidents just kept pushing me towards something. I started at a time when there was not much awareness or acceptance towards going to a therapist.

It was just a random weekday when I was talking to my best friend about new risks I was taking in life; using a dating app (totally unlike old me), started smoking, feeling like I was not in my body. I called her and just started talking. To sound very cool, like hey P, I met a guy, I hooked up with him, I have been doing late nights and just lying at home. This feels so freeing to do.

To my surprise she said T, I think you need help. This doesn't sound like someone I know.

Sitting with absolute confusion, I wondered what would make her say so? I hated to hear this. But underneath, I didn't feel close to who I was. I sat with that for weeks. Often trying to make sense of it.

One random day I typed "therapist near me", having no prior knowledge of the difference between a psychiatrist and a psychologist.

Six years into therapy, and today while I type this, I reflect back to that moment and thank my friend.

You are grappling but pretending to hold yourself together but the truth is, you are not who you used to be. I love knowing that today. But back then, it was a life-changing thing to hear.

It hasn't made me a billionaire or the wisest monk. But just taking a bet on myself; pausing, sitting, checking in. Reminding myself, after weeks of seeking external validation, that while I want certain things in my life, chasing them a certain way is not how I want to have them.

So no, it wasn't the whole internet bashing me, or waking up every day feeling depressed. It was just a random night in my living room where my family had gathered and I caught myself feeling out of breath, not knowing what it was. Followed by a hundred of small events to avoid that feeling. To run away from it. To stop feeling like I had lost control.

It was a small, tiny, but the most impactful feeling, 'I was just not myself'.

If you've been asking yourself, do I need therapy and then talking yourself out of it, this is for you.

And sometimes, that's enough of a reason.