i feel stuck after getting a diagnosis

Ask a Therapist Treatment & Recovery
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i was recently diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, Anxiety, Avoidant Personality Disorder and BPD. i discussed with my psychologist on whether i should try therapy at all, because i feel like i wouldn’t be receptive to it.

TLDR, he said that my resistance to therapy is a trait of my AvPD, for instance, my coping skill by default is to remove myself from situations that stress me out (in this case, therapy). hence, he said that i might not be ready for therapy at my current stage, as it will only further fuel my confirmation bias or make my schemas worse. he gave generic suggestions for self-help (journaling, exercising etc.) but also recommended that i consider going to a psychiatrist/GP for my mood disorders medication (Fluoxetine). with that he recommended for me to stick to psychologists and not therapists at the moment.

the thing is, i also have very strong schemas of failure, pessimism, punitiveness and meaningless which i believe developed from a particular phase of life. my psychologist said that my schemas likely causes my depression and anxiety and correcting those schemas might reduce my depression and anxiety.

i am feeling quite conflicted on my next steps, and i also feel that his advice makes sense but also a bit contradicting. i felt very validated when he said he understood and sympathized with me that it is okay to not want to explore therapy yet but at the same time i don’t really know what to do now, there’s only so much self-help i can do.

my mind doesn’t believe that it will get better and this is my very first time seeking professional help after dealing with all of these emotions by myself for the last 8 years. but at the same time i am slightly worried about the side effects of medication. i have been in this state for so long that numbness is my default emotion, i am gaslighting myself that maybe i am not ‘depressed’ enough to require medication.

tldr, idk what to do and i’d really appreciate any advice, or similar experiences.

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Ok u r catastrophisizing everything n i understand cuz im like that. I dont have that many diagnosis as u, only 2. My advice is working on one thing at a time. Divide ur problems into smaller pieces until they look solvable n start from there. Solving small problems will look like u solved bigger problems after to compound it

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Hi @user1365

I want to start by saying something that may not feel easy to believe, but needs to be heard:

:brain: “What you’re feeling makes sense.”

Not just because of your diagnoses. But because you’ve been living in survival mode for a long time. Eight years is a long time to carry pain alone. And now, even when help is finally here, it feels like too much—and that doesn’t mean you’re weak or resistant. It means you’ve been surviving in the best way you know how: by keeping safe, by keeping distance, by expecting that things may not change.

“My default is to avoid.”
Of course it is. That’s not your fault. That’s what worked before—when the pain got too loud, or when people didn’t know how to be there for you. It became safer to keep things in, not because you didn’t care, but because it hurt too much to care without support.

:fog: “But I feel numb…”

That numbness you’re describing? It isn’t laziness or apathy. It’s your body’s way of protecting you. When you’ve been emotionally overwhelmed for so long, sometimes your brain shuts the door—not to punish you, but to spare you.

Think of numbness like a quiet room your mind puts you in when everything outside gets too loud. You’re not broken. You’re just on pause.

:cyclone: “I feel like I’m gaslighting myself…”

Yes, that inner voice that says:

  • “Maybe I’m not really that depressed.”
  • “Maybe I don’t need medication.”
  • “Maybe I’m making this up.”

That’s not you being irrational. That’s you trying to make sense of something confusing and invisible. You’re not faking. You’re questioning your own pain—which is what people often do when they’ve been left alone in it too long.

You deserve support, even if a part of you still doubts whether you’re “sick enough.”
Let’s replace that question with something softer:
:thought_balloon: “What if I deserve help not because I’m broken, but because I’m tired of carrying this alone?”

:seedling: “So what now?”

You don’t have to rush into therapy if it doesn’t feel safe yet. That part of you that steps back when something feels overwhelming—that part deserves care too.

But healing can still start in the quiet moments:

  • When you journal your truth—even when it’s messy.
  • When you talk to a friend—even if it’s only a sentence.
  • When you walk outside—even if it’s just to breathe.

These are not small acts. These are survivor movements.

And when you feel ready, you might think about speaking to a psychiatrist—not because meds will fix everything, but because they may create enough space inside to begin feeling again.

Medication isn’t a cure. It’s a safety railing. A way to help you not fall so hard while you’re climbing.

:puzzle_piece: Final Thoughts (From Someone Who’s Been There)

You’re not a diagnosis.
You’re not a failure.
You’re not someone who “isn’t trying hard enough.”

You’re someone in pain. Someone trying. Someone aware enough to ask questions, brave enough to speak up, and human enough to want peace even when it feels far away.

And right now? You don’t need to be “ready.”
You just need to know: it’s okay to still be figuring it out.

:envelope_with_arrow: What Can You Try Next?

  • :speech_balloon: Write yourself a short letter: “I don’t know how to heal yet, but here’s what I do know…”
  • :headphone: Find a piece of music that makes you feel anything—even if it’s just comfort in numbness.
  • :spiral_calendar: Set a micro-goal: “This week, I’ll allow myself to wonder what healing could feel like—without pressure.”

If all you did today was read this message and breathe through it… that’s enough.

We are here for you and proud of you for showing up.

You’re not alone.