Why You Need to Give Group Therapy a Chance

Everything I'm about to say comes from my own time in groups, plus what I've watched happen for other people sitting in those same circles. It's one person's take. If that's not what you're after, feel free to close the tab right here :)

Group therapy carries a stigma. When I've mentioned that I went, I could see people quietly deciding something must be broken in me. Maybe I imagined some of those reactions, but I've felt enough of them to know they're real, and it took me years to stop caring. What I do, I do for me. I come first on that list, ahead of whatever opinion is trying to convince me to quit.

Plenty of people avoid groups, and the reasons vary. The one I hear over and over is that they can't picture handing their private stories to a room of strangers. But every single person in that room walked in for a reason of their own, same as you. Nobody's there to judge you. And on the rare occasion someone does seem to, it usually isn't ordinary judgment at all.

There was a guy in one of my groups who came off as prickly. He'd snap about other people's problems, he even trashed our therapists, which was actually pretty standard behavior. For a while the rest of us assumed his anger was pointed at us. It wasn't. He was finally sitting with something he'd been running from for years, and it wasn't resolving on his schedule. He had walked in on his best friend, who had hanged himself. It was the guy's own birthday. He'd gone to pick his friend up for birthday drinks, found him dead, and tried CPR. That's the kind of thing that reshapes a person. Once I understood it, all his comments about everyone else's issues read completely differently. In the end he loved that group. The only thing that stopped him coming in daily was gas money. He also had bipolar disorder, and the two of us ended up getting along well because I recognized a lot of what he was carrying. We traded tips back and forth.

So here's why I push people toward groups. First: it's uncomfortable for everyone in the room, and that discomfort is the point. We have to challenge ourselves. Help shows up in a lot of different shapes, and walking into a support group is a solid way to push yourself forward in recovery instead of standing still.

Second: other people know things you don't. Reading and one-on-one conversations only take you so far. The sheer volume of information and small practical tips I picked up in groups is a big part of why I'm where I am now. I don't think I'd have gotten here without them.

Third: meeting strangers while you're that exposed is a strange kind of thrill. I did an intensive outpatient therapy group twice. The first round, I barely got anything out of it. The second round I walked in more sure of myself and actually made friends. You start running into people with the same diagnosis you have, and it lands that you aren't the only one struggling right now, in this moment. Watching people you barely know put effort into helping you does something for the hope.

If sitting in a room full of people really isn't for you, there's www.supportgroups.com as another route. I leaned on that site for about a month when I needed support during the daytime. People go on to read, to pick up tips, to give advice. You post whatever problem or thought or experience you want off your chest, and others comment. Some posts slip by and never get read, so don't count on every one of yours getting a reply, but I still love the place. I ended up connecting with women from England, Brazil, Iceland, Mexico, and Ireland, which drove home that bipolar and other illnesses don't stop at any border.

Go to one session, at least. You aren't signing up for all of them. Most groups are walk-in friendly. There are a couple I only bother with every two months. And if groups truly sound too frightening or just wrong for you, I completely get it. There are other paths to getting help. Whatever you do, don't lose hope. Trial and error is your best friend through all of this.

- Susan Page

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