Would you like another story?
I believe in some other post I promised you the story of the shitty therapist…well one of them.
But this was a good one…in the story blah sense…
Oh I did think of something about therapy I wanted to share.
The idea of having a spotter.
When I was first going to therapy during my mixed episode (pre diagnosis) I had a friend who would work to make herself available (on phone) after my appointments.
I called this therapy with a spotter. Somebody to catch you if you fall.
Someone to help you process everything that just came up.
And in fact as therapy goes…I have found the most benefit comes from the conversations or journaling or reflecting I did after. Which I believe is supposed to be part of therapy.
But anyway. I have been ridiculously blessed in the friends department.
And now you’re like that’s nice where’s my damn story?!
So in retrospect I was a mixed manicky mess. Years after my other college story posts. So once again I knew something was really wrong….
Sort of like the college post I was like “I need help!”….
And I kept thinking to myself how does a person with a pretty decent life feel sooooo fucked up.
So I looked for therapists…
And this is the story of one of them…
Well you don’t need the whole thing…
But you should know right off the bat that she had NO…yes NO sense of humor and could not read sarcasm to save herself from vampire bats in the dark.
The context is not relevant…. though you can see that if THIS was what we were talking about I was obviously wasting my time and money and precious breath. Oh the aburdity of life sometimes.
We were speaking of some one else’s food aversions (see! weird!) and in order to communicate the extent of this person’s pickiness, I said…”she like only eats Triscuits…”
Now. I am sure you get me.
This was hyperbole. I was saying something extreme to make my point. You all know I do this all of the time. It’s sort of my default mode.
This woman makes the most disgusted confused face and asks in all seriousness…
“She ONLY eats Triscuits???”
And then when I back up and explain my use of hyperbole here she just looked at ME like I was the WEIRD one.
It was SO strange
and then I got the inappropriate laugh thing where you absolutely should NOT be laughing and yet it keeps bubbling and it is like okay NOW I look like a crazy person.
Okay but that’s not even the story.
So like I said, I now know that what was happening to me was a mixed episode.
I was in a full throttle mixed episode. And not just a mixed episode but with the mixed feelings….
And part of what I was experiencing was horrible image intrusions.
I made that term up.
I don’t know if you have run across the little sister of “hearing voices” called “thought intrusions” but it was a stunning concept to me when I heard it because it so perfectly described what happened in my head and made me feel so much less (and more) crazy.
So yeah…I also believe that some of us get “image intrusions”…which are obviously thought intrusions in the form of pictures…
I think they feed and fuel and birth paranoia and anxiety too.
Anyway. I was having these BAD along with other thought intrusions and I was totally freaked out.
I felt like a seriously twisted sick person for “thinking” these horrible things all of the time.
These awful violent images….
sO innocent little me shared this with this lady….desperate for “help”…
she gave me the smuggest, most condescending, disgusted look and said…
“You really need to stop that.”
wow that’s so helpful thanks
So much for help.
I didn’t get any help.
But you know what I did get?
I got to feel like shit.
I got to feel even more twisted and sick and weird and confused and shamed and embarrassed.
maYBE Bipolar is in cahoots with these shitty therapists…
because it knows how much easier it is to take us down after we have been to one.
I politely left her a voicemail explaining that I didn’t feel like it was the right fit.
She left me a voicemail telling me to send her a check.
I tried another one around this time who told me she thought I may be experiencing some adjustment disorder.
If she meant I was having trouble “adjusting” to being in a mixed episode than she may have been correct.
I guess I could make this not a sucky story by telling you that I did actually find a good therapist at this time. One who cost the most and didn’t take insurance. (Funny how that works)
She turned out to be the one who suggested I see a psychiatrist. She was a good fit for me. I would probably still see her sometimes if I had not moved away.
And I would probably still do phone session with her sometimes if it hadn’t been so clear that I was expected to cut that tie and find someone new.
Oh there is another issue I take with therapy!!
oh shoot now I have to go off again….hold on…
The expected protocol or whatever the fuck is that when you move away you are supposed to find a new therapist.
Which in this day and age of phones…and FaceTime…and Skype…and all of this crazy shit seems just totally fucking stupid.
Especially for Bipolar people but this goes for anyone too.
Because a person who GOES TO THERAPY REGULARLY (therefore obviously in need of emotional help and or “mentally ill”)
Should not be all of a sudden cut off from a person they have grown used to…formed a relationship…established something and SHARED ALL THEIR SHIT WITH….
AND told to now do ALL of that therapist shopping sorting through stupid shit therapists ALL over again…
and ALL of the intakes…
and ALL of the rehashing through all of that shit you JUST DID.
You don’t have to but then that therapist won’t know the whole story…the whole picture. And in fact I have never gone through it ALL since that one. Because I just don’t feel like it.
AND you have to do all of this
Right when you have just mOVED! Which counts for even normies as a major life stressor.
Tell me that makes sense
and I will tell you
that you are wrong.
I think it stems from the idea of therapist as babysitter. Someone to sit around and make sure you don’t kill yourself.
and if you look at it in that way it makes sense that one might think the person should be like physically in the room.
But why can’t we even have both if we really need to?
I don’t know. I think it is horrible and incongruent with the whole point and nature of therapy.
Because I had something going with that therapist and have obviously not found another therapist with those same qualities or characteristics.
And once again in this fucking messed up “mental health” world….
I was the one to lose.
We are the ones who lose.
I am the one left with that hole.
And I was once again thrown into the hell that is finding a therapist. Well a GOOD therapist. It couldn’t be easier to find a bad one. (That horse has been flogged right. I can stop?)
But on the bright side it allowed me to garner experiences to share with you. So yay. Awesome.
And oh yeah I was also trying to find a good psychiatrist during this time.
And I think you are starting to get that I went through a lot of shit in order to find one. (that horse dead too right?)
That therapist did agree to have some phone sessions while I was finding a new one. But it just doesn’t really work that well like that. When it feels illicit it is hard to relax.
And you know how when you are depressed you also feel like everyone is pretending to like you and I know some of you do the paranoid stuff of thinking that your therapist is one of these people. So when they are also telling you to find someone new it exacerbates crap like that.
It wasn’t just her who put the pressure on. The “good enough for right now” psychiatrist that I found at the time was also pushy about it saying that a good therapist wouldn’t do phone sessions.
She is the psychiatrist who almost killed me
Sooooo I tend to have some cognitive conceit in her direction.
On her contrary. I think good therapists would and should do phone sessions.
If I had been older stronger more experienced more over the shit and less depressed I would have fought harder for what I knew was right and for what I knew I needed.
I think things would have gone much differently and much better for me had I been able to continue “seeing” this therapist.
A therapist who gets and knows you and who you are comfortable being real with is (I am CERTAIN) going to be better at seeing or even hearing problems….
than the therapist who does not really get you and who you cannot be totally you with…..even if they are “good” or “good enough”
I told my Pdoc that if I ever move away I will NOT look for another psychiatrist. It is NOT happening. I have fought through hell and high-water to get to him and I don’t give one shit what the protocol is or what they are “supposed” to do.
I absolutely will not jeopardize myself again because of the stupid shitness of this fucked up system.
There are too few good ones to lose one because of something as banal as moving.
It is called the telephone. It is called video chatting.
it was the path that I had to take apparently and now here I am talking to you all about psychiatrists and therapists and I have amassed a sizable sample of these people so while I will be the first one to admit that I am generalizing and opinionizing…..
I have also seen a bunch of them.
And I’m not making this shit up.
The woman actually said…
“You really need to stop that.”
I guess I should be totally fair and tell you that after that she also told me to distract myself by looking at a plant.
So there you go you guys….
The answer to the mixed episode….
Look at a plant.
Tell me that that is not the best thing you have heard all day