Â鶹

Healing Through Connection

By Yulisa Pena-Sanchez

As I stepped out of the car, I looked up at the building which read ‘Compass Health Center’. With a heavy heart, I dragged my feet towards the entrance, dreading the weeks ahead. This was where I’d spend my weekdays for the next two months– a "pre-hospitalization program." I felt a swirl of emotions: disappointment and embarrassment for letting my depression reach this point, frustration at being taken out of school, and anxiety about being vulnerable around strangers. Yet, somewhere deep down, there was a tiny glimmer of hope that maybe I’d learn something here that could help.

After what felt like an eternity of questionnaires and paperwork, I was finally brought to the group room. My heart pounded as I entered, meeting the eyes of about 15 other teens. It was homework time and everyone was busy working as I took my seat. Anxious thoughts raced through my mind as I sat there in silence, wondering: What is this program going to be like? What is everyone going to be like? Can I even do this? As homework time reached its end, we moved into a "skills" session, where group therapists taught us ways to cope. Two group therapists, Asma and Alyssa, introduced themselves. Alyssa, in her mid-20s, had bleached, curly hair with dark roots and wore big glasses. Her laid-back vibe was a stark contrast to Asma’s. Asma, a bit older, wore a hijab and had warm, brown eyes that sparkled with energy. Outgoing and upbeat, Asma instantly brought a positive vibe to the weary group.

The first few days were long and lonely. I kept to myself, speaking to no one and resenting the idea of sharing my problems with strangers or participating in therapy activities. Asma, however, made it her mission to get me out of my shell. Slowly, I began confiding in her, sharing small moments of progress. She always responded with a big smile and words of encouragement, “Yulisa, this is great! I’m so proud of you.” Asma’s kindness motivated me to take treatment seriously and focus on improving my mental health. Even on the days when I struggled, she’d remind me, “Progress isn’t linear.”

Eventually, I realized I was carrying so much inside that it was exhausting me. Hearing others share their experiences in group therapy, I began to feel like sharing my own story might help me too. My therapist encouraged me, saying I’d feel a sense of relief after letting it all out. So, I made the difficult decision to open up in the group, sharing one of the core experiences that had impacted my mental health and led to my being put in PHP. 

When the day came, I braced myself to go through with it, no matter how nervous I was. The morning flew by, and soon we were all seated for group therapy. As it came closer to my turn, I felt my heart race and my hands sweat. My leg bounced in anticipation while my mind raced with anxious thoughts. What if they judge me? What will they think of me? While I was busy thinking of every worst possible outcome, it had become my turn to share. My mind snapped back to reality when I heard Asma say my name, “Yulisa, are you ready to share?” I looked up to see Asma’s warm eyes looking at me, along with the eyes of the rest of the group. As much as I dreaded sharing this certain experience, I knew it was the necessary first step in the process of healing. I nodded back at Asma and took a deep breath before speaking. I spoke in a quiet, shaky voice as the words came out of my mouth like a river breaking through a dam. I began detailing a personal experience I had gone through the September prior. This was the first time I shared it with anyone other than my best friend and therapist. Tears threatened as I spoke, but I fought them back. Fuck, not now, please don’t start crying. I tried my hardest to keep the tears from falling. Finally, I finished speaking. The air felt thick with silence as everyone sat in quiet reflection. 

After the session, it was lunchtime. While others gathered their things, I stood alone, feeling raw and vulnerable. As if sensing my need for comfort, Asma came over and reassured me, “Yulisa, it’s not easy to share something like that. I’m proud of you for speaking in group today.” I felt tears well up again, and she frowned slightly with a sympathetic expression. “Oh, I wish I could give you a hug right now.” I looked down, trying to compose myself, when she finally said, “Screw it, come here.” She pulled me in for a hug. As I hugged her back, I felt some of the tension lift. “You’re the first patient I’ve ever hugged,” she said with a smile. After pulling away, she took me to her office for lunch. She sat me in her chair and gave me headphones to listen to music while I ate. I barely touched my lunch, my stomach still hurt from all the anxiety. After taking maybe a couple of bites, Asma continued to comfort me and lead me through a few breathing exercises. She helped me calm down enough to go back to the group.

Even months later, I look back at that moment as one of the most meaningful in my healing journey. I remember how significant Asma’s compassion was to me when I struggled the most. She offered more than just encouragement or a listening ear—she offered a deep, genuine empathy that I hadn’t encountered before. Although I’ve had many therapists, none connected with me as deeply as Asma did. My experience at Compass taught me that healing isn’t a straightforward process. It’s messy and unpredictable, filled with highs and lows, breakthroughs and setbacks. There were days when I felt empowered and motivated, and others when I wondered if I’d ever really be okay. Asma’s words, “Progress isn’t linear,” became ingrained in my mind, reminding me that every step forward, even the smallest one, was a victory. The program also helped me realize that I’m not alone in my struggles. For so long, I had isolated myself, convinced that no one could understand the pain I was carrying. But as I listened to others share their stories, I opened my eyes to the fact that many others face the same reality. My time in this program provided me with more than coping skills or therapy exercises; it gave me a profound insight into what it means to heal and the importance of kindness, both from others and toward myself.