$pent Millennial

Dear Reader,

I am a therapy dropout.

I gave up therapy because, ironically, it didn’t fit into my self-care.

I’ve tried BetterHelp a few times now. Because I want to be a functioning, therapized adult. I really do.

 I want to regulate my emotions instead of shoving them into a drawer labeled “deal with later.”
I want to process things and be reflective instead of reactive.
I want to grow. I want to heal.
I want to drop those little nuggets of gold that start with, “Well, my therapist says…” into casual conversations, captions, and Reels.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but therapy is in. And I’m glad it is.
I’m glad we’re normalizing mental health.
I’m glad people are getting support that works for them.

But it hasn’t worked for me. At least, not yet.

In all seriousness, I do want to be my best self. Who doesn’t?

I want to be healthy in my relationships—professional, personal, familial.
I want to handle conflict without spiraling or blowing up.
I want to show up calm, grounded, and not feel like I’m one missed deadline away from emotional collapse.

So when I finally had a little wiggle room in my budget, I figured—why not give it a try? I signed up and forked over the nearly $200/month (which I know is considered affordable in therapy terms—but it’s not pocket change to me).

It was an investment in myself. That’s what everyone says, right?

So I tried.

And then I tried again.

And again.

I really tried to make it work. (Have I mentioned I want to be therapized?)

I switched therapists. I tried group sessions. I used the online journal and the messaging features they market as “convenient for busy schedules” (hi, it’s me—busy schedule).

But in the end, session availability and timing never lined up.
Technically, sure, I could carve out time during the workday. My job is flexible enough that I could treat therapy like any other appointment. But between deadlines, events, emails, and meetings… who actually makes that work? Honestly?

I know what you’re thinking: You have to make time. You have to prioritize yourself.

I get it. I do.

But I don’t want to interrupt my day for a session—and truthfully, I don’t think it would be effective anyway. I’d be half-in, mentally checking email, thinking about an upcoming meeting, or calculating what time I’d need to leave to make it to an evening event. I’d be paying for presence I couldn’t bring. That doesn’t feel like care. It feels like another obligation.

And ironically, the thing I was seeking therapy for—burnout—is also the reason I can’t squeeze it in.

Burnout is hovering over me like a deadline with no due date. And I’m not willing to give up the routines that actually keep me functional in order to fix what’s broken.

My morning and evening routines are my lifelines.
They bookend my days and give me the grounding I can count on.

Morning coffee and reading, followed by a run with a podcast.
Evening walks with my dog to decompress—usually with a True Crime episode in my ears—and then cooking dinner while unwinding from the day.

Eventually, I found a therapist and a session time I thought might actually work: Sundays at 5 p.m.

It was perfect in theory. I’m usually winding down and getting ready for the week ahead. I imagined sliding in a quick session between my Sunday reset and making dinner. It could be the ideal grounding ritual. A little emotional prep to combat the Sunday Scaries.

Perfect, right?

Well, 5 p.m. came around. My therapist called.

And I didn’t answer.

I stood her up. $15 cancellation fee be damned.

Because when that time rolled around, I didn’t want to talk.
I needed that hour to veg out—mindless TV, cozy blankets, and mentally checking out before Monday hit me like a ton of unread emails.

So no, it wasn’t meant to be.

I want to be clear—this isn’t a “you don’t need therapy, just drink water and go for a walk” kind of post.

Do the therapy. Please.
Do all the therapy.
Be your beautiful, boundaried, therapized self.

Therapy is incredible when it works—and for many people, it works wonders.
I’ve seen it. I believe in it.

It just hasn’t worked for me. Not yet. Maye someday- a girl can dream. 

For now, I’ll just have to settle for  the self-reflective, podcast-listening, coffee-drinking, dog-walking, trying-my-best version of me.

As for you? Thank you for taking some of your precious “you” time to join me for coffee.

Until next week—take care, and be well (whatever that looks like for you),

Everett