Category: REFLECTION

My Top 3 Irrational Beliefs

Posted on by David Zerella, LCSW in anxiety, burnout, cognitive behavioral therapy, perfectionism, personal-growth, REFLECTION

The real B.S. I used to tell myself—and believed for longer than I care to admit.

As a cognitive behavioral psychotherapist, I spend a lot of time helping people identify irrational beliefs.

Very often the stories we tell ourselves and the assumptions we make are flawed or self limiting. We reach conclusions and fill in gaps without much evidence.

We subjectively create rules for ourselves that, at some point, we stop questioning.

Unfortunately for me, being a psychotherapist does not make me immune to any of this.

I have my own irrational beliefs. Some which I’ve stubbornly held onto for years. And the tricky thing about an irrational belief is that when you believe it, it usually doesn’t sound irrational.

It sounds completely reasonable to us at the time.

So in an effort at transparency and vulnerability, here are three of mine.

Irrational Belief #1: “I’m a psychotherapist. I shouldn’t be in great physical shape.”

For a long time, I had this strange belief about being physically fit. I told myself I didn’t need to be in great shape because I was a psychotherapist. Part of that was probably just a convenient excuse to do bare minimums.

But there was something else underneath it.

I thought being too physically fit might actually make me less relatable. Maybe people would look at me and wonder what I was trying to prove. Maybe they’d think I was hiding something.

Maybe a client struggling with their own health, motivation, confidence, or body image would look at me and think:

He doesn’t get it.

So somehow I turned not taking care of myself into something that felt almost professionally responsible.

That was my own B.S.

The reframe was much simpler:

I can care about my physical health and appearance because I care about me.

It doesn’t have to have anything to do with other people:

A) I can exercise because I like feeling strong.

B.). I can care about how I look because it makes me feel more confident.

C.) By challenging myself physically it reminds me I can do difficult things.

And none of those things make me less capable of understanding someone else’s struggle. If anything, what actually happens is the exact opposite of what I feared. I’m more confident and speak with more conviction in my approach. Theres more heart. I genuinely feel better.

My behavior is more congruent with a lot of the things I encourage in therapy.

And I think my clients benefit from that.

Irrational Belief #2: “If my clients find out I’m divorced, they’ll see it as negative.”

For years, I was extremely cautious about self-disclosure.

I’m a therapist. The session isn’t about me. I need to have strong boundaries. And these are good reasons to have boundaries around what and how much we share with clients. But somewhere along the way, healthy boundaries turned into boxed in walls. Based on fear or my own anxiety.

I worried that if clients knew too much about me, eventually something could be used against me.

Divorce was a big one.

He got divorced.

His marriage failed.

What does he know about successful relationships?

So I kept parts of myself hidden for far too long. Not necessarily because keeping them private made me a better therapist, but because keeping them private made me feel safer.

Eventually, I had to dispute that self serving by self limiting comfort zone.

I can have appropriate boundaries without being afraid of being known.

I can be proud of choosing divorce even if someone else sees it as failure.

I survived something difficult.

I made a decision that was healthier for me and gave me more opportunity to be the father I wanted to be.

And none of that disqualifies me from helping someone else navigate their relationships.

What actually happened?

I became more comfortable acknowledging my failures.

I became more intentional with self-disclosure instead of simply being afraid of it. (Also, no one used my divorce against me. It actually is more of a gateway into understanding people)

More importantly, I stopped believing that being a good therapist required presenting some carefully protected version of myself.

I can have boundaries.

I can keep parts of my life private.

But I don’t have to hide myself out of fear.

Irrational Belief #3: “Posting on social media to get clients is for therapists who need clients.”

This one is probably the most humbling to admit because I didn’t just avoid social media.

I judged other therapists for doing it.

I thought it was cringey.

There was this part of me that believed:

Just be good at your craft.

If you’re a good therapist, people will find you.

You shouldn’t have to shamelessly promote yourself.

And if you’re constantly posting online trying to get clients, maybe that says something about your ability as a therapist.

Then eventually I had to confront something uncomfortable.

I wasn’t avoiding social media because I had some deeply held professional principle.

I was boxing myself in because I cared too much about other people’s opinions.

What if another therapist thinks I’m cringey?

What if someone thinks I’m desperate for clients?

What if people I know see one of my videos and make fun of me?

I was allowing hypothetical opinions from hypothetical people to dictate what I was willing to try.

That isn’t freedom. It’s confinement.

The reframe became:

I don’t need to do this to still do it and enjoy it.

In fact, maybe it’s better to start doing something before you need it.

And what actually happened?

It’s fun.

I enjoy writing.

I enjoy making videos.

I enjoy trying to communicate psychological ideas in ways that people might actually want to read or watch.

I’ve realized that actively creating on social media feels a lot better to me than lurking as a passive recipient of overstimulation.

I’ve connected with people I otherwise wouldn’t have.

I’ve created more.

I’ve written more.

And yeah, I may have even gained a client or two.

They Were All the Same Irrational Belief

At first glance, these are three completely different beliefs.

One is about physical fitness.

One is about divorce.

One is about social media.

But when I started looking at them together, I realized they were really just different versions of the same irrational belief:

Other people’s hypothetical opinions should influence how I live my actual life.

That one had a lot more control over me than I realized.

And disputing it doesn’t mean I’ve convinced myself that nobody will judge me.

That’s just another irrational belief.

Someone might think I care too much about how I look.

Someone might think a divorced therapist has no business talking about relationships.

Someone might watch one of my videos and think I’m cringey.

Someone might read this entire blog post and think the same thing.

That’s possible.

The healthier belief isn’t:

Nobody will judge me.

It’s:

I can withstand it if and when they do.

I don’t have to organize my life around preventing negatives. I can adapt and overcome them.

Person jogging on rural road at sunrise with rolling hills and trees

Overcoming Self-Doubt: Lessons from Running

Posted on by David Zerella, LCSW in cognitive behavioral therapy, personal-growth, REFLECTION

The other day I posted about a running benchmark and captioned it:

“Do impossible sh!t. Then try to beat it. Fall short and still be proud.”

I didn’t get my best distance ever, but I completed a truly hard run.

The tongue-in-cheek “do impossible shit” wasn’t meant as a flex, some form of unbridled toxic masculinity, or an unhinged run-through-a-wall mentality. What I really meant was: do something that a previous version of you couldn’t do. Then keep working on yourself and see what you can do next.

If you’ve followed me for a while, you’ve probably noticed that I’ve become a runner. Of all the stereotypical midlife crisis responses, running has been an unexpectedly healthy one.

It has helped settle my own hypervigilance and helped me regain a sense of stability and confidence through doing hard things. Not because running magically fixes your mental health, but because it has repeatedly given me opportunities to challenge myself and find out what I’m capable of. (In different ways then my career)

I have increased confidence now but only because there was a time when I had very little. I earned trust in myself slowly, by gradually challenging myself to do things I didn’t think I could do.

Here’s the thing, though:

I still very often don’t think I can do stuff.

My routine before a benchmark is now telling anyone at the gym who will listen that I don’t think I have it today. Then, almost immediately, I’ll explain my exact plan to run X speed for Y minutes and what I’m hoping to accomplish.

I plan for what I want despite initially believing I probably can’t actually do it. The self doubt is underneath but not the reality.

And then I try anyway.

The attempt comes first.
The plan comes second.
The belief comes last.

I think we often imagine confidence working in the opposite direction. First you believe in yourself, then you make the plan, then you confidently go do the thing.

That has not been my experience.

The belief came from repeatedly attempting things before I was convinced I could do them. Sometimes I succeeded. Sometimes I fell short. But every attempt gave me a little more evidence about what I could handle.

Running has also become a pretty good illustration of my own cognitive process and, specifically, my all-or-nothing thinking. In a matter of minutes—maybe even seconds—I can vacillate between thinking I am unstoppable and thinking I am way too out of shape for this.

I suppose neither is true.

The truth is somewhere in the healthy middle.

I am not unstoppable. I can’t do the impossible. There are things I will attempt and fail at. There are goals I won’t reach and days when I genuinely don’t have it.

But I can do hard shit.

And maybe confidence isn’t believing that you’re going to succeed every time. Maybe it’s trusting that you can attempt something without knowing how it’s going to turn out.

That trust has been earned slowly.

One run. One workout. One race. One benchmark. One uncomfortable thing at a time.

So when I say, “Do impossible shit, then try to beat it,” I’m not really talking about doing the impossible.

I’m talking about doing something that feels impossible to you right now.

Then seeing what you can do next.

Person jogging on rural road at sunrise with rolling hills and trees

Empathy or Enabling? Know your limits.

Posted on by David Zerella, LCSW in anxiety, burnout, cognitive behavioral therapy, PARENTING, personal-growth, psychotherapy, REFLECTION

Remove all text near people

Empathy is essential for human connection. It allows us to understand and support each other. It’s important to validate the emotional experiences of others in order to strengthen are most meaningful relationships. So at its core, empathy is necessary for healthy relationships

But empathy also has a limit. It’s not an endless resource.

It can take a lot out of us. Especially when it goes beyond understanding and into over-involvement, codependency, or enmeshment. Empathy to the Nth degree can begin to work against the very growth it’s meant to support.

A Spectrum of Empathy

Like most nuanced psychological principles – it can be most helpful to think of empathy as existing on a spectrum. Not all or nothing. Not binary. But with shades of grey

On one end, we often criticize and distance ourselves from those who lack empathy. Seeing the existence of empathy as an automatic positive.

Which empathy can be when grounded and with appropriate boundaries. This balanced or healthy empathy allow us to recognize someone else’s emotional experience without taking it on as our responsibility. This form of empathy supports both connection and autonomy. This is “true empathy” that is consistent with emotional intelligence.

When Empathy Becomes Self-Focused

However, for some as empathy intensifies, it can shift from selfless to selfish. We may begin to feel not only with someone, but for them to the point that their discomfort becomes difficult for the empathizer to tolerate.

At this far end of the spectrum, empathy becomes enabling when the empathizer finds themselves desperately trying to remove the discomfort from the other person. This happens when we claim to feel so badly for someone else that we no longer want them to feel it. But removing someone else’s opportunity for an emotional response, (including negative emotions) no matter how well intentioned is ultimately self serving.

This becomes limiting for one party and burdensome for the other. Instead of being about the other person’s experience, it becomes about the empathizers discomfort with their experience.

If we step in, fix, soften, or carry the emotional weight— we are not helping them, but relieving what we are feeling in response to it.

In that sense, empathy that has exceeded its limit can become more self-focused than it appears.

Why This Matters

Emotional discomfort plays an important role in growth.

Feelings like frustration, regret, or sadness are not problems to be eliminated—they are part of how people learn, adapt, and develop resilience.

When we consistently remove or absorb that discomfort for others, we may unintentionally limit their ability to build those skills.

Support does not require removing the experience. It requires allowing space for it.

Differentiating the Difference

A useful distinction is this:

  • Empathy says: “I see you and understand what you’re feeling.”
  • Enabling says: “I’ll take this from you so you don’t have to feel it.”

The difference is not in how much we care, but in how we respond to that care.

Conclusion

Empathy is not the problem. In fact, it’s necessary.

But when it goes beyond a healthy limit—when it shifts from understanding to over-carrying—it can become counterproductive.

You can care deeply about someone
without carrying what is theirs to feel.

That balance is where empathy is most effective.

A motivational quote over a background of burning firewood that reads: 'you are not required to set yourself on fire to keep other people warm.'
Three people playing basketball and laughing on an outdoor court at sunset

Fun Isn’t Frivolous: It’s Fuel for Life

Posted on by David Zerella, LCSW in anxiety, burnout, cognitive behavioral therapy, PARENTING, personal-growth, REFLECTION
Three people playing basketball and laughing on an outdoor court at sunset

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about fun We love it and yet we are not having enough of it.

We are often entertained. Frequently wanting a distraction. Planning future events. But not let ourselves have real fun in the moment.

Somewhere along the way, too many of us lose touch with it. I hypothesis it starts in teenage years when we start feeling societal pressure and demands. We slow start taking life too seriously. Then in adulthood we gradually add responsibilities and start prioritizing productivity, milestones, achievement, and earnings. We treat fun like a reward we earn after handling our responsibilities.

The problem is… life is a series of problems. So the responsibilities are never fully handled.

There will always be another email, another call, another task, another goal, another pressure, and another metric. If we try fun as future priority we won’t have it. “I’ll be happy when… turns into I can’t be happy now”

Anxiety Might Push You. Fun Sustains You.

As a psychotherapist who works with perfectionism and overthinking, I see a lot of performance-based anxiety.

The pressure to succeed.
The pressure to do more.
The pressure to always be improving.

And to be fair, anxiety can be useful in the short term.

A lot of high achievers are productive because of anxiety. It helps them stay sharp, stay driven, stay on top of things.

But the issue is sustainability.

You can absolutely build success through pressure.
You just usually can’t hold onto it for too long.

That’s where fun comes in.

Fun prevents burnout.
Fun reinvigorates us.
Fun pulls us out of performance mode and back into the present moment.

So even if anxiety pushes us towards success initially- fun is what can help keep us succesful .

Life Was Never Meant to Be Only Outcomes

When you listen to your favorite song, it isn’t about getting to the end of the song.

It’s about singing along. Maybe dancing badly in your kitchen with your loved ones.

When you play sports or board games with your kids, it isn’t about finishing the game.

It’s about playing – the laughing, bonding, harmless competition, and creating memories.

When you go on vacation, it sure as hell isn’t about get back home. It’s not completing the trip.

It’s enjoy it. Having fun along the journey.

Somewhere along the way, many adults start treating life like one giant checklist. Finish the task. Reach the milestone. Get to the next thing.

But life was never meant to only be completed.

It was meant to be lived.

What Is “True Fun”?

We all know what fun is in theory. But I think it helps to define it more clearly.

True fun usually includes three things:

1. Playfulness

Not taking everything so seriously. Room for humor, silliness, spontaneity.

2. Flow

Being immersed enough in the moment that you forget your to-do list for a while.

3. Connection

Sharing moments, laughter, energy, or meaning with others.

That might look like:

  • Playing ping pong and laughing at the ridiculous points in between keeping score
  • Singing karaoke in the kitchen and forgetting what day it is
  • Sitting at dinner with family, recapping the day and joking around
  • Shooting hoops with no agenda other than enjoying yourself
  • Going for a walk and actually noticing the day

Fun often sounds small. But its impact is not small.

Fun Helps Mental Health

Fun is not a cure for anxiety or depression.

But it can be a powerful part of healing.

Fun can help us reconnect with ourselves.
It can remind us we are more than our stress.
It can increase willingness to participate in life again.
It can restore confidence, connection, and energy.

Sometimes people think mental health is only about deep work, heavy conversations, fixing problems.

That matters too.

But healing also happens in laughter.
In movement.
In shared moments.
In joy that doesn’t need to be earned.

This Week, Try This

Don’t ask only:

“What do I need to get done?”

Also ask:

“What can I do to make this day more fun?”

That question can change more than people realize.

Because fun isn’t childish.
It isn’t lazy.
It isn’t extra.

Fun is often the thing that makes life feel like life again.

Therapy FAQs: Why Am I Not Seeing Progress?

Posted on by David Zerella, LCSW in cognitive behavioral therapy, personal-growth, psychotherapy, REFLECTION

One of the most common frustrations I hear in therapy is some version of:

“I’m doing the work… but I don’t feel like I’m making progress.”

That feeling can be discouraging. People accustomed to measuring growth may question therapy’s effectiveness. Those concerned with improvement or productivity might also doubt if therapy is working.

Not seeing growth in therapy doesn’t mean nothing is happening. More often, it means progress is showing up in ways that are slower. It can be subtler and also harder to measure than we expect.

Here are a few reasons why therapy can feel stagnant even when meaningful change is happening.

1. Change Is Slow

We live in a world of immediate gratification. When something doesn’t produce quick results, it’s easy to assume it isn’t effective.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy isn’t fast-acting in the way people often hope for. But it is long-lasting. Real change tends to happen gradually, through repetition, practice, and consistency—not sudden insight alone.

That slowness can be frustrating, especially if you’re used to seeing effort quickly turn into outcomes.

2. Change Is Subtle

We love watching our kids grow up, but we don’t notice their growth day by day.

The same is true for our own personal growth.

Subtle progress is hard to see—even when it’s happening. When change occurs in small increments, it often only becomes visible in hindsight. That makes it easy to overlook and dismiss in the moment.

3. You’re Not Used to Looking for Progress

Many people I work with are high-demand, operating-at-maximum-efficiency types.

Your brain is used to looking for the deficit, not the progress.

By “deficit,” I mean the area short of perfection—the place where you could still improve. When your mind is trained this way, it becomes very good at spotting problems and very bad at taking inventory of wins.

We get so used to asking “What still needs work?” that we rarely pause to notice what has changed.

CBT sessions help slow this process down and intentionally identify progress—even when that progress is simply prioritizing mental health by showing up consistently to sessions.

That still counts.

4. Progress Is Not Linear

If we start plotting points of happiness or progress, it becomes clear pretty quickly that growth isn’t a straight line.

You’re not always going to feel good.

You’re not always going to be successful.

Sometimes you stub your toe.

Sometimes you get sick.

Sometimes you react to a trigger in a way you wish you hadn’t.

Those moments are just that—moments. Not the journey.

Temporary setbacks don’t erase progress. They’re part of it.

5. You’re Trying… But Are You Really Trying?

Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko on Pexels.com

Effort can be difficult to define, especially in therapy.

It’s easy to feel like you’re trying just by talking about things in session. But are you doing the work outside of therapy?

That might look like:

Journaling Taking breaks Practicing boundaries Prioritizing the right kind of self-care

Insight matters—but insight alone rarely creates change. Behavior and practice are where progress tends to take root.

6. Effort Doesn’t Equal Outcome

This part is important—and often overlooked.

Sometimes we are doing the work.

We can do the right things, and it still doesn’t mean we’ll get the desired results—at least not yet.

That doesn’t mean the effort is wasted.

Keep up the effort.

Keep noticing the effort.

Give yourself some damn credit.

And trust the process.

Final Thoughts

Therapy isn’t about constant improvement or feeling better all the time. It’s about learning how to relate differently to your thoughts, emotions, and behaviors over time.

If therapy feels slow or frustrating, that doesn’t mean it isn’t working. It may mean the changes you’re making are quieter, deeper, and still unfolding.

Those changes tend to last.

Parenting by Example: How Confidence is Modeled, Not Taught

Posted on by David Zerella, LCSW in cognitive behavioral therapy, PARENTING, REFLECTION
A close-up image of an adult hand and a child's hand touching, symbolizing connection and affection.

At this stage of my career, I primarily work with young adults and adults navigating anxiety, depression, and self-esteem. But not that long ago, I was the young, cool therapist—the one parents wanted their ADHD or ODD sons to connect with.

I still love child development. I still enjoy working with kids and adolescents.

But nothing grounds you quite like having an 11-year-old daughter and a 13-year-old stepdaughter.

I am no longer the young, cool therapist. And almost certainly not the cool guy at home. (The eye rolls out number the laughs nowadays)

And honestly? That’s probably for the best.

When Being “Cool” Stops Being the Goal

Not that I’m trying to be cool to middle schoolers. Insert generic dad joke about not having rizz. (Listen, I’m cool enough to know not to even attempt it.)

A man wearing a red cap and skateboard, dressed in casual attire, greets a group of young people with the phrase 'How do you do, fellow kids?'

What’s shifted isn’t my sense of humor—it’s my focus. Somewhere in the second decade of parenting, the question quietly changes. It’s no longer about telling them they’re awesome little achievers that can do anything they put their little minds to.

It becomes about showing them what it looks like to be proud of yourself in life.

Am I someone I’d want to become?

Am I leading by example?

The First Decade: Building Their Confidence and life. 

During the first decade of parenting, I spent a lot of energy cultivating my daughter’s self-esteem. I encouraged her and celebrated her achievements. I made sure she knew she was capable and worthy.

Lately?

She gives significantly fewer shits about what I think.

She rolls her eyes and sarcastically asks “is this another life lesson?!” She complains when I encourage her to be proud of herself. I get it. It’s dorky now. It’s parent stuff.

The Second Decade: Modeling Living a confident enjoyable life. 

What actually needs my attention now isn’t coaching her confidence—but modeling it.

That means being proud of myself.

Not “cool” (that ship sailed when I started making comments worthy of Progressive Insurance commercials).

But grounded. Intentional. Honest.

Sometimes I catch myself wondering:

Would my daughter want to live a life like mine?

Two individuals running on treadmills in a gym with large windows showing a view of the outdoors.

Leading by Example Isn’t About Control—It’s About Consistency

I hope my daughter continues to be her own independent, creative self. (Though, good or bad, she has many of my idiosyncrasies.)

My role now feels less about directing her growth and more about living in a way that demonstrates self-respect.

One of the best things we can do for the people we love is take care of ourselves. We are not do it performatively, not perfectly, but consistently.

Good parenting isn’t just being present and attentive.

It’s being able to stand behind the life you’re living.

That includes being proud of your own:

  1. Daily habits
  2. Physical health and movement
  3. Mental health and emotional regulation
  4. Relationships
  5. Interests, hobbies, and passions

Kids notice what we do far more than what we say.

A framed sign with the text 'SELF CARE ISN'T SELFISH' displayed against a pink background, accompanied by a shadow from a plant.

Modeling Matters More Than Motivating

Recently, our girls did wall sits for an absurd amount of time—because I was doing a wall-sit challenge at my gym.

No lecture required.

No motivational speech.

Just modeling.

My daughter has also been leaning into humor lately. (I like to think we’ve made her life just stressful enough to have good material, yet comfortable enough to feel secure being silly.)

She told me a story from school that stuck with me.

She wanted to leave school early. She Googled me, pulled up my website, and showed her friends my profile—where my session fees are listed.

She announced:

“Guys, I have to come up with at least a hundred dollars for my dad to come get me.”

I was proud—not because she was “flexing,” but because she was playful, confident, and comfortable sharing this tibdit with her classmates ( and now with me). She proceeded to ask her classmates if she looked like me. (She did not need confirmation—unfortunately- poor girl looks exactly like her dad.)

What that moment told me was this:

She wasn’t embarrassed by me.

She wasn’t hiding me.

She was proud.

A man in sunglasses stands with a water bottle and a towel over his shoulder, watching two children play soccer in a sunny park.

Being Someone Your Kids Can Be Proud Of Starts With You

I know 11 is still young. The next decade will likely involve plenty of eye-rolling, boundary-testing, and days where I unequivocally take the L.

But I want to give myself the best chance possible—not by being perfect, but by being someone I respect.

Because when I’m proud of how I live,

when I show up for myself,

when I take care of my mental and physical health—

I’m not just teaching her confidence.

I’m showing her what it looks like.

And hopefully, one day, she’ll be damn proud of herself too.