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Around the time that I turned 18 and my friends went off to college, I started getting the dreaded question. The one we ask far too much to teenagers just stumbling into adulthood: what do you want to do with your life? For me, I’d already narrowed it down to two options. I could do therapy or writing.
These two professions made the most sense. I’d grown up fascinated by mental health and human psychology. From a young age, I was always the dude people talked to when they had problems. The future was vague and shapeless, but if I squinted, I could see myself doing therapy of some kind. It made sense.
On the other hand, writing lived in my DNA. When I was a kid, I taught myself how to hold a pen because I so badly wanted to write down my fanciful ideas. That storytelling drive never went away, and I began writing fiction. By the end of high school, I’d completed my first novel. It wasn’t good, but I loved it anyway. Being a writer also made sense.
This identity crisis followed me when I transferred to UCLA. I studied psychology, and for the most part, my classes were fascinating. However, when hanging out with my classmates, I noticed how much more interested I was in art and creative writing than they were. When I spent time with aspiring novelists and playwrights, though, I felt out of place with my more science-oriented brain.
As graduation fast approached, I felt split between two worlds. I wondered if I could try making both therapy and writing work as careers. My parents swore I could– they pointed to authors like Michael Crichton, who earned his MD while going on to write bestsellers like Jurassic Park.
I was unconvinced. Then, one of my close friends gave what he no doubt thought was smart advice to focus on just one of these careers. He warned me if I tried both, I wouldn’t be taken seriously.
Devastated, I tried to do it his way. Initially, I tried to make it exclusively as a writer. Not an easy path at all, mind you. After significant time laboring over imperfect stories, I missed human connection. I began working as a behavioral instructor for children on the autism spectrum, and soon after joined the Suicide Prevention Line. I loved it. Wanting to stay focused exclusively on one path, I dropped writing for a bit of time. Every day that passed, however, I felt more lost.
My mind wandered. I decided to defy my friend’s smart sounding advice and seriously pursue both therapy and writing as careers. Was such a feat possible? What would it take to succeed in separate competitive fields?
I had no idea how this decision would change me.
Writing and Therapy: What It Looks Like Now
Years later, a lot has changed.
I went on to complete my Master’s of Social Work at California State University, Fullerton with a focus on community mental health. While I’d worried about whether I would enjoy the program, I couldn’t be happier with it. I got to work two amazing internships, learn from fantastic professors, and meet great classmates, some of whom I still keep in touch with.
Shortly after graduating, I started at a community mental health clinic. I absolutely LOVE where I work. I get a chance to do psychotherapy, assessments, and case management with all sorts of interesting people. This job really represents the latest phase in my education on the human experience. I’ve gotten licensed, started a private practice on the side, and continued working alongside brilliant doctors, clinicians, and administrative staff.
One of my biggest concerns about committing to social work as a career was that I’d have to give up writing. Thankfully, this couldn’t be further from the truth. I wrote two novels by the time I finished my master’s degree, one of which earned me a spot in UCLA Extension’s Master Class Workshop. I’d taken many writing classes before, but this workshop was life-changing. Over the course of fifteen months, I got incredible guidance and mentorship from Alyx Dellamonica. (Check out their website for more on their own published work).
Now, I’ve polished one book and am in the process of pitching it to agents. I’ve completed several short stories, and am currently writing a new novel on intergenerational trauma. I hope to have happy news soon on when I can start sharing these stories. I’ve also developed deep and lasting friendships with each of my workshop classmates as we help cheer each other on through our creative careers.
Putting together two challenging careers takes a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. However, regardless of where each career ultimately takes me, I can definitively say it’s been worth it.
The Amazing Benefits of Doing Therapy AND Writing
Sometimes, waking up and being able to do both therapy and writing feels like I’m getting away with something. How lucky am I to do TWO things I love? The correct answer is very.
Even though I spent years worrying I couldn’t balance two separate careers, I’ve somehow made it happen. Incredibly, the more I’ve done both, the more intersection I see between these fields.
It’s All About the Story
Maybe you’ve heard of “The Hero’s Journey.” The basic premise goes like this: throughout history, across cultures, stories are told in a similar way. Joseph Campbell, an American professor of literature and mythology, traveled and studied an extreme amount of fiction and non-fiction, and found that, for the most part, they could all be described in a single way.
Campbell said:
“A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder: fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won: the hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to bestow boons on his fellow man.”
Campbell’s work has direct ties to the human experience. He borrowed a lot from famous psychologist Carl Jung, which you can see him talk about in this cool video:
Understanding all of this has made me a better therapist. See, we are the protagonists in our own story. Oftentimes we fight monsters who take different forms, like loneliness, imposter syndrome, or fear of danger.
How we talk about those battles matters. If we see as ourselves as powerless against these monsters, we will struggle. Issues like sadness, anxiety, and substance abuse come up.
However, what happens when we look at these battles from another angle? It is possible that we’re exaggerating the danger at hand. Maybe we’re underselling our successes. Sometimes, simply understanding the order of events that brought us to the present problem is enough to give us answers or help us feel better. And if we don’t have the right equipment to fight off these monsters, therapy is a space to develop the proper tools. In the end, psychotherapy changes the way we engage with our story.
Whether I’m doing therapy with a client or working on a novel, my focus remains on story. Being a therapist has made me a better writer. Being a writer has made me a better therapist.
Focus on Others, Focus on Myself
Both therapy and writing take a lot of energy. However, in my experience, they both balance each other out nicely.
Writing– or creating any kind of art– is intrinsically egocentric. It has to be. Listen to any great actor or musician and they probably come off as self-centered from time to time. This is because art is an expression of one’s own ideas, values, and experiences. To make something special, an artist must insert themselves into their work.
On the other hand, therapy requires my complete and total attention be directed toward another person for an hour. I must set aside whatever is going on in my brain so I can collaborate with my clients to help them function better.
If you’re too self-centered, you’ll have a hard time managing relationships and finding your place in the community. On the other hand, if you’re too altruistic, you risk getting taken advantage of or burning out.
I love working with others. However, I find writing invigorates me differently. It fills up my tank so I have more to give. As a result, therapy and writing complement each other beautifully.
One other thing. It must be said that both types of work require my better understanding myself. How I respond to what somebody is saying during therapy can help me know what questions I should ask my client. And writing is truly expressing oneself. Writing teachers always preach “write what you know.” Novice authors might misinterpret that as describing only what happened to them directly. It doesn’t matter if you’re writing about your neighborhood or an ancient space battle on the planet Zerg– if you’re expressing the themes and ideas that matter to you, you are writing what you know.
Keeping Perspective
In both therapy and writing, I must stay nimble.
Living in Southern California, I have the incredible privilege of working with people from many different cultures and identities. I work hard to be culturally competent. That doesn’t mean I must know everything– good thing, because I don’t– but I try my best to be curious and ask questions to better understand my client’s perspective. Two people who immigrated from the same country may hold radically different points of view. So many factors– like backgrounds, family values, age, biology, and lived experience– change how one sees the world.
Reality is extremely subjective. As a therapist, I’m most effective when I understand why my client acts, thinks, or feels the way that they do.
Perspective matters immensely in writing, too. Good authors try to get in their characters’ heads. What would they do in this situation? What might they say? Readers must understand a character if they’re going to care what happens to them. Authors even choose what information to give the reader based on what their character would or wouldn’t think.
While therapy and writing look so different on the surface, in practice, they require many of the same skills.
Constant Nourishment for the Soul
Many people go through life looking for work that fulfills them. I somehow have two such jobs.
I find it hard to describe how gratifying it is to sit with somebody and help them out of the darkness. It’s a gift to hear somebody’s most intimate dreams, fears, and memories. When a client creates the change they want for their life, I want to break out the pom poms.
Writing satisfies me on a different level. Maya Angelou once said:
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
Creating fiction is like building a plane as you’re flying it. It’s hard work, a puzzle that changes shape with every decision. Still, as cheesy as it sounds, solving those problems and creating characters and stories that readers care about gives me chills.
I’m a very lucky man.
Therapy, Writing, and the Never-Ending Quest for More Hours in the Day
If you’ve read this far, you might be thinking, “gee, this sounds great, but isn’t it a lot of work?”
Yep. Good point.
The Gap Between Expectations and Reality Can Be Painful
I would guess most people who enter a career want to be great at it. However, a gaping chasm often stands between how we’d like our work to be and the actual reality. That gap can be discouraging. In fact, I’d say it’s one of the biggest reasons young professionals quit.
For me, pursuing two challenging careers means I’ve had to become very good at accepting disappointments. As a therapist, I always want people to succeed and feel better. I’ve had great success with my clients, but sometimes, for one reason or another, things don’t work out. I also get a front row seat to watch how our government’s problems affect people’s lives. Healthy boundaries are a must.
Writing is hard in other ways. What is good writing? Talk to a hundred different authors and you’ll get just as many different answers. Regardless, everybody would agree that the craft presents challenges. And when authors squeeze out a good book– a herculean effort most will never achieve– the business comes in with new challenges. How are you going to sell your work? What relationships do you need to form with agents? No matter what, authors face constant rejection as they try to present their work to the world.
Over the years, I’ve gotten better at managing my expectations. I remain as ambitious and goal-driven as ever. However, I now accept that I can’t write as much as I did before . My energy and time are not as free as they once were. That drove me nuts for a while, but I’ve found more at peace with it.
Balance Is Always a Work in Progress
No matter how fulfilling an activity is, there’s only so much time in the day. Furthermore, every activity or stressor requires effort and attention. A person has a finite amount of energy. Pushing too far beyond that can leave one feeling completely overwhelmed.
Time flies. If I’m not careful, weeks, months, or years can fly by without seeing some family and friends. This holds true for most people, I suspect. Still, it’s an unfortunate consequence– our relationships can buffer negative feelings and offer us support. Part of my journey has been learning to invest my limited time into the relationships I care for.
Once upon a time, I kept up on pop culture. If there was a quiz show exclusively asking about shows or movies that came out between 2007 and 2014, I’d win a million bucks. However, when I entered graduate school, I couldn’t pay so much attention. Space away from the constant drumbeat of hype around the latest release made me realize that maybe it wasn’t as important to me as I thought. My time is precious, and I choose to fill my limited free time with people and hobbies I enjoy. Self-care is super important.
I’m not saying establishing a balance is no sweat. On the contrary! I feel like this is one of those goals I will always be working on as my interests and needs change.
Writing and Therapy: Two Halves of the Same Purpose
A teacher once told me that the more we learn, the better we understand how everything is connected. For example, the further you study history, the more you understand how it intertwined with mythology and literature.
My two jobs look wildly different, but I’ve come to see them as two sides of the same coin. Psychotherapy is the rehabilitation of the human experience. Writing is the expression of the human experience.
If there’s a lesson I’ve learned, it’s this. If you’re interested in multiple things, that’s okay. There’s a lot of pressure in today’s world to be one thing. People might roll their eyes at your range of interests and tell you to just specialize in a single field. But if I could balance therapy and writing, you can enjoy the entirety of your interests, too. Maybe the activities are different enough that they’ll refresh you. Sometimes they’ll complement each other nicely. They may not look exactly how you want them, but it’s important to do what you care for.
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