#therapy cw

[filenesdebasement]

it’s scary to need reality checking and also be extremely vulnerable to manipulation. tho i guess actually these go hand in hand. my main fear with a therapist i think is that they would overwrite my narrative with their own (even if my reality was flawed, they would ‘check’ me into an also-wrong/obfuscating reality!) and then it’d be even worse. i know this is a reasonable fear, tho not inevitable.

[plural-culture-is]

plural culture is:

i keep trying to bring CDDs up to our therapist as an issue to look into but every single time i get the courage to try either

A: we start dissociating or

B: a protector comes to front and starts talking about something else

guys... come on we need to talk about this shit eventually. bapping them lightly

.

[weirdboyfriends]

Maxiel “protect”

“it’s so obvious how much you love max, daniel, but can you consider a max who is just as grown and capable of making good decisions for himself as you are?”

daniel frowns at his therapist, shifts uncomfortably in his chair because of course he can; max is smart and strong and capable but rebecca doesn’t know max’s life and history like daniel does.

“I just wonder if your desire to protect him from his father might disempower him to come to understand what he needs or wants for himself,” rebecca continues and daniel feels the discomfort bubble up inside him.

daniel continues to frown as he considers rebecca’s words and how scary it is to think about max navigating a post-retirement interaction with his dad; how angry his dad had been when max got out of his contract early after his fifth championship.

“you can’t love his pain away,” rebecca says and daniel can’t help but to scoff:

“someone’s got to,” he tells her, because max deserves it, unconditionally. for once.

[mildew-mop]

Thinking about how little schools in the United States give a fuck about the safety of their students, and how school counselors could not care less about abuse because there is no reason for them to care.

When I was a kid, I was regularly called to the principal's office and/or the school councilors office. It was a combination of undiagnosed autism, being completely traumatized, and in general not knowing how to socialize with anyone. I would always (and still do) get triggered by pretty much anything and get sent into frequent panic attacks and mental breakdowns. I would frequently leave the classroom crying, or would scream and cry in the bathroom. I would frequently be in an unresponsive PTSD state, and even though I could rarely remember why I was upset, or know what was happening (kept repressing the shit out of that trauma) the effects were still there. I was labeled as a problem kid, and it became routine to just deal with me in the office.

I remember one time I was explaining how my mom hit me to the school counselor, and she asked more specifically how my mom hit me. She then said that slapping children across the face is legal because it doesn't leave a mark. She said that it doesn't matter what I feel about it because my mother is allowed to do that, and my mother still loves me, etc. She said there was nothing that she was allowed to do about it, and that I should just deal with it. (Btw, the woman I am describing was the most helpful councilor or therapist I saw at this age who arguably did the least amount of harm.) The woman who told me that it didn't matter that I was being hit because it was legal, and also didn't give enough of a shit to try and figure out if other stuff was going on (there was much worse stuff going on) was the kindest and most helpful person in my childhood who toted a therapist or councilor label.

I frequently interacted with school administration as a kid, and they always just dismissed me as a troublemaker and looking for attention. And whenever my dad would harass them into not punishing more than they already did (I cannot count the number of times I would get suspended for having panic attacks or causing a scene in school) they would just believe him when they said that he was helping me. He took me to a fake therapist (she was licensed as an "art therapist" and had no other qualifications) who encouraged him and myself to believe that I was only pretending to be depressed to try and get out of doing homework. That therapist told me that no matter how much my father abused me, it didn't matter because he loved me. And this woman would tell my school that I was fine, and to ignore me when I caused trouble. And they believed it. Because they don't care. No one fucking cares. People pretend to give a shit about harm caused to children, but in reality, they could not care less.

[wellthatschaotic]

thinking about how apparently therapy isn't the solution for everyone. like. all you hear is therapy is Good and Cures Mental Shit. so like. what even are the other options

[ninemagicks]

Day 18: Side ships

(Simon/going back to therapy)

[w-e-b-k-i-n-z]

[teaprose]

cw: anxiety, depression, medication, crappy therapists

I don’t know why I’m writing all this. Perhaps as a bit of a journaling device. This has been a difficult few months for me and due to the situation described below I really haven’t had anyone to talk to about it.

Tl/dr; Don’t suffer in silence. If you are on the same medication for years with no progress: it’s time to change up the medication. And also, you may have multiple therapists that just aren’t the right fit. Don’t be afraid to say so and get a new one.

Just started a new type of anti-depressant. I had been on my last one for over two years with varying doses. I have no idea if this one will work, I only just started it, but at least it’s something new.

Currently having the lovely side effects of extreme drowsiness and dry mouth. Gross.

Anyway... why am I telling you this?

Because please, please, don’t suffer in silence.

I was on my previous medication for over TWO. YEARS. while also going to therapy for the last four. My first therapist I saw for about two years for my anxiety and depression and she was a complete waste of time. She spent more time telling me about her adopted son and his issues than my own. I had never been in therapy before and didn’t realize how wrong this was. I was paying her weekly to help me through trauma and instead I would leave barely getting a word in with no actual treatment plan in place.

My second therapist, we’ll get to in a bit....

The point is... If you’re not seeing improvement after being on a medication for over two years it’s time to try something new. If your therapist isn’t working with your best interests at heart, get a new therapist.

Now medication: Every brain works differently. For some Lexapro will work, for others Prozac, for someone else something else. And then there are the doses! You get 5mg, you get 10mg, we’ll start with 5 and make our way up to 20!

Medication is not one size fits all.

Anyway, since last year I had been trying to get in to see a psychiatrist with the help of my therapist. My medical doctor can only prescribe anxiety and anti-depressant medication up to a certain dosage. For anything else you need to see a psychiatrist. Well, great! So let’s set up an appointment with the clinic psychiatrist. Easy peasy.

That was almost a year ago. Therapist kept saying “oh yeah, I’ll reach out to them” over and over and over. I should have spoken up then. After all, it took me months to get the results of my ADHD and BPD assessments back and she admitted she hadn’t sent them to her supervisor in a timely manner. 

(P.S. Assessments are meant to be done with 0 bias. They should not be completed by your main practioner except in extreme cases. My case is that she was the only one licensed to perform these specific assessments at the clinic and it got approved by her clinic supervisor).

Then, in May, roughly eight months since suggesting I see a psychiatrist and that she’d get me an appointment... my therapist ghosted me.

But me, being me, and my mental health, being it, just stayed silent. She said she was going through some things, including a family death, and she needed to take a month off.

Okay. A month. I could go a month without therapy. And so there I sat a month later waiting for her text or her call or her email. Well... one month became two. And then three. And now almost four. I eventually reached out at the end of month three and asked if I’d be seeing her again. She said she was on sabbatical. 

She said I could no longer meet with the psychiatrist on staff because I was not actively being seen by someone at the clinic. 

She said she’d get me reassigned to a new therapist. That was a month ago. I never heard from her again or anyone at the clinic.

Based on previous experiences I doubt she ever reached out to them.

So.

I lost my chance to see a psychiatrist and be put on proper medication because my therapist “went on sabbatical” and didn’t think to reach out to her clients and get them reassigned. And I didn’t reach out because I didn’t want to be a bother. Because my therapist was going through something and I didn’t want to make things more difficult for her.

I have my MSW. I know that you don’t go into therapy without a reason. But when that reason starts to interfere with your therapeutic work you are supposed to have the training and the supervision to help you. Your personal issues should never effect your clients who are already going through their own personal issues. Issues they are trusting (and paying) you to guide them through.

Now to the good news!

Fortunately my husband is also in therapy and he mentioned to his therapist how I hadn’t been to therapy in about four months. (She works in the same office).

I ended up meeting with her twice and within two weeks I had 

a psychiatrist appointment lined up (I met with her this past Saturday)

a new therapist whom I will meet tomorrow

And when I met with my husband’s therapist she told me that there is no need to suffer in silence. I had come to the clinic looking for help and been abandoned. And to have been left on the same medication for over two years when it obviously wasn’t doing anything, was just taking time away from trying something new where I could have been getting better.

I know, I KNOW, how hard it is to find your voice in moments like this. We don’t want to be a bother. We don’t want to cause trouble. We don’t know if they’ll believe us when we’re hurting. We don’t want to hurt their feelings if we want a different therapist. There are so many reasons we don’t speak up.

But please.

Don’t suffer in silence.

Find your voice and advocate for yourself.

You are worth it.