Things Your Therapist Is Working On
There’s this idea that once someone becomes a therapist, they’ve somehow “figured it out.” Like as if having this title removes us from having any personal problems, and we no longer have to “do the work.” Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it) that’s not what happens.
Therapists are still people. We still have patterns. We still have blind spots. I speak for myself that having the background I do, it makes me more aware of them and that I’m more open to work on them.
Here are a few things I’m actively working on:
Being on Time (and What That Actually Impacts)
I’ve always been someone who runs late. I’ve unpacked some things as to why this is (time blindness, preparation anxiety, teenage rebellion) but the result has remained the same throughout the years. I usually do a task right up until the time it is to go, and then I push the meter by a few minutes. Google maps “expected arrival time” is a mild suggestion to me, and it’s almost a personal challenge to beat it. I will eat and do my makeup in the car just to make it to appointments 5 minutes after they started. At this point, family and friends expect me to be late and I have no shame walking into places where everyone else is already seated and ready.
In my work, I care a lot about being present and respectful. However, I’ve noticed it start to leak into sessions more than I would like. It’s been a pattern where I might start a minute or two late, then run a minute or two over to compensate. Over the course of a full day, that adds up. I don’t get a break between sessions to eat, use the restroom, or just take a moment for myself. I had to recognize *I’m the problem* (so annoying when that happens).
I had a moment recently where being late stopped feeling like it was, “no big deal” or “oh that’s just Morgan,” and it landed differently. A very uncomfortable landing was what I needed and it made me look at how my time habits affect other people, not just me.
What I’m actually doing about it:
Scheduling built-in buffers between sessions, even if it means fewer appointments.
Starting and ending sessions on time, doing my best in not going over the 55 minute mark.
Treating start and end times as fixed instead of flexible. If a reservation is at 7pm, it’s at 7pm. Not 7:05, or 7:10.
Setting alarms that signal transition, not just the start times.
Not relying on “I’ll just make it up later” as a plan.
For you:
If time keeps slipping, look at where you’re asking yourself to absorb the cost. Add one visible buffer and see what changes.
Accepting That I Actually Need Sleep
I need about 7-8 hours minimum of sleep to function well and I’ve tried to convince myself otherwise for years. I remember getting 4-5 hours when I was younger and feeling “fine” the next day, but I’ve kept that mentality for far too long. I can do less for a night or two, but I notice the shift very quickly. My mood, my patience, my thinking, my decision-making, they all start to diminish and I am not a good version of myself.
The work here has been stopping the mental negotiation. Not pretending I am a hustle culture bro and can outsmart my biology, or just power through without consequences. I preach all the time to clients about the importance of sleep, and I needed to follow my own damn advice (again, so annoying).
What I’m actually doing about it:
Picking a realistic bedtime, setting timers to help remind and transition to this
Treating sleep like a nonnegotiable, it is the concrete to which I work my schedule and activities around now
Paying attention to how quickly my thinking shifts when I’m underslept, and how everything else tends to get worse (eating patterns, breakouts, emotions, etc.)
For you:
Track how you feel after short sleep versus enough sleep. Let the data speak instead of willpower.
Untangling my Productivity From my Self-Worth
This is something I’ve done a lot of work on in my own therapy, and it still loves to show up when I’m under stress. When things pile up or feel heavy, my default is to start grinding. I’ll put in more hours (goodbye sleep), take on more projects, and sprint like I’m about to lose everything. Productivity has always been a place where I feel more in control, and it’s my go-to when things start to feel intense.
The problem is that when work becomes the main way I regulate or measure myself, everything else gets pushed to the side including resting and taking care of myself. Which is actually the most counterproductive thing I could do (not taking breaks). I am no different in that my brain likes to beat me up sometimes. Here are some of the fun things it tells me if you can relate:
“Once things calm down, then you can take care of yourself.”
“If you slow down, you’ll start to lose xyz.”
“Are you actually tired or are you just being lazy?”
“Other people handle more than this, why can’t you?”
“You can rest once everything is done.” (It’s never done.)
“Why are you so tired? You shouldn’t be tired, you didn’t even do that much today.”
I’m paying closer attention to when that switch flips and what I actually need in those moments instead of just doing more.
What I’m actually doing about it:
Noticing when I’m using work to regulate instead of rest
Reframing the judgement of laziness and putting rest first vs. last on my list
Actually getting those 7-8 hours of sleep I mentioned earlier
Asking myself what I’m avoiding by staying busy and processing that
Letting some days be “done enough” or give a 70% effort vs. 110%
Protecting time that doesn’t produce anything measurable
I call this “adult play” (no, nothing weird I promise). It’s just time that has no structure or meaning. Like there isn’t a specific stop time, and you don’t put a productivity measure on it
For you:
Notice when “being productive” shows up as emotional management. That’s usually the cue, not the solution.
Being Responsive Without Overextending
I used to respond to everything quickly and say yes to most plans. Being included mattered a lot to me, and when I would get invited to something (even if it wasn’t something I wanted to do) it was such a rush to feel wanted. Yeah, I had to unpack that one in my own therapy too.
Over the last couple of years I’ve learned how to enjoy my own company on a deeper level and been much more intentional about who I invest my time and energy in. I’ve built a heck of a lot healthier friendships because that.
At the same time, my social battery hasn’t magically increased. I’m still naturally an introvert and although the social interactions may be healthy, I still get drained. Keeping up takes effort, and I’m still figuring out what maintaining good friendships and relationships looks like now without disappearing (my avoidant side) or stretching myself thin (my anxious “yes” side). This one is still very much in progress.
What I’m actually doing about it:
Letting messages sit without feeling guilty that I haven’t responded right away
Responding honestly and with intent instead of automatically (and half assed)
Being more intentional with plans instead of defaulting to availability (even with a clear schedule I don’t have to say yes)
Accepting that closeness doesn’t require constant contact
For you:
Responsiveness doesn’t equal accessibility. Decide what pace actually works for you.
from your forever-growing therapist,
Morgan
