When the Intake Form Breaks You Open — And Why That’s Not the End of the Story
Therapy today wasn’t even a full session — just the intake form. A stack of questions meant to “get to know me.” But somehow, it knew me a little too well.
I must have typed the word lonely a dozen times.
Do you feel supported?
No.
Do you have close friends you rely on?
No.
Describe your social support system:
…None?
It’s hard to see your own life spelled out like that. Hard to admit that you’ve been moving through the world without a safety net: no friend circle, estranged biological family, no regular community, no one checking in, no one to lean on. I co-parent, I raise my son, I try to be his example — but in the quiet moments I realize I don’t have an example of my own.
And then the question that surprised me the most:
What are your hobbies?
I stared at it longer than I expected. I felt blank. I felt embarrassed. I felt… tired. Somewhere along the way, the playful parts of life — interests, hobbies, passions — got buried under survival, stress, work, co-parenting, spiritual battles, and the daily grind of holding everything together.
Some people list hiking, gaming, cooking, golf, painting.
I sat there with an empty box.
The Shock Isn’t a Failure — It’s a Revelation
Seeing “alone,” “lonely,” and “no support system” repeated across a form might feel like a judgment, but it’s not. It’s a snapshot of where I am today — not who I am forever.
Therapy didn’t expose weakness.
It exposed need.
And need is human.
Loneliness isn’t a moral flaw.
It’s the body and soul saying, “I was not made to walk alone.”
I Realized Something Important
I do have connection — just not the kind I’ve been missing.
I have a son who watches me closely.
I have a faith that’s been my anchor in storms.
I have a desire to grow, to heal, to become whole.
But I don’t have:
Brotherhood
Close friends
A community that knows me beyond surface level
Places where I can rest instead of perform
People who check in because they want to
A space where I can be fully myself
That absence hurts. And it should. We were created for connection.
Hobbies Will Come Back With Safety
When you’re in survival mode for years, the brain stops caring about “fun.” Not because you’re boring, but because you’re exhausted. When the nervous system is constantly managing conflict, responsibility, isolation, and vigilance, there’s no energy left for play.
The fact that I couldn’t name hobbies doesn’t mean I’m empty.
It means I’ve been carrying too much.
And slowly, as healing comes, the parts of me that enjoy things will come back. Maybe in small ways:
walks
Scripture study
journaling
woodworking or simple projects
gym time
cooking
a parish ministry
learning new skills
writing
creative prayer
Seeds are already there. They just need room to breathe.
The Intake Form Didn’t Break Me — It Clarified Me
It showed me:
what I’m missing
what I’m craving
what I need to rebuild
what pain I’ve been pushing down
what story I’ve been carrying silently
And it reminded me of something simple:
I don’t have to stay here.
Loneliness is a season, not a sentence.
Support can be built.
Friendship can be formed.
Community can be found.
Hobbies can spark again.
Connection can grow slowly, honestly, and beautifully.
The intake form didn’t define me.
It just gave me the starting line.
And maybe, for the first time in a long time, that’s exactly what I needed.