Last night, I was catching up on a few blogs I follow. I noticed Heather from dooce® wrote an essay that mentioned how grateful she was for the therapy that has and is helping her daughters. It is in fact titled:

The life-changing magic of really expensive therapy

It made me begin to review how I felt about talk therapy. I actually may have made an off the cuff statement in a previous post about my feelings toward therapy, so now I guess we are at the time where we divulge a little more about that. Thanks, Heather… 

I have gone to therapy a few times in my life. When I was 14, I was self-harming, depressed and sometimes suicidal. They tried Prozac, Zoloft, Wellbutrin, and really nothing was working. So, I went to therapy. My first therapist tried to convince me and my mother that I was molested as a child. And that I had repressed it.

Honestly, if I were and I repressed it that well, why would I want to know? Why would I want to bring it to my conscience? As far as my knowledge, this is false. So the therapist left a bad taste in my mouth.

I then saw a therapist that either let me talk or let me sit in silence for the whole session. He took my insurance and was cheap, but there was no coping mechanisms shared, nothing really therapeutic. He was billing my insurance as Depression NOS (Not otherwise specified) which basically means there isn’t a known cause – no definitive proof of it being chemical, situational, seasonal… just as examples. Since I was going nowhere after a year with this therapist, I stopped going.

After my teens and accumulating 3 hospital stays for self harming and suicidal ideation, I turned 18 and it was like nothing happened. I lived a very normal young woman existence until my brain broke. I was 24 when I was first diagnosed Bipolar. I didn’t accept it as a diagnosis until it happened again at the age of 27.

I decided to see a therapist when I was having a hard time getting into employment again. She talked about her life more than I ever divulged of mine. Basically I was paying her to be her therapist.

So after that, I decided my main part of treatment would be and is now medications. Last year, I decided to give therapy another try. The therapist was acutely focused on attention deficit disorder. He had the disorder himself. After a handful of sessions I was filling a script from my psychiatrist for a low dose of Ritalin. It got me through my boring job, I did feel very productive, but I also knew it was like legal speed. I felt very happy on it. Very happy. I stopped seeing the therapist and told my psychiatrist to mark my file to not give me any stimulants.

So in summary, I have had the creating false memories kinda therapist, the passive therapist, the reverse therapy where I was the therapist, and the self-projecting therapist.

Wait. I forgot one.

I did see a psychologist when I was first diagnosed at 24. He was highly expensive, but he was amazing. I’d see him now, but he’s $200.00 a session. Yeah, I am with Heather. Really expensive therapy just may be where it’s at.

One Comment on “What’s in your head?

  1. The only therapy I ever felt was fruitful for me was the group therapy I was in as a teen. It wasn’t so much that the therapist was amazing, but it was just seeing that I wasn’t the only one struggling, and, in fact, many people had it a lot worse than I did.

    The therapist I had a few years ago basically just had me talk about my history and then asked for weekly updates, but never offered any coping mechanisms, so I stopped going.

    Liked by 1 person

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