thirty years of therapy and what I have learned

Thirty years of therapy and what I learned

I’ve been in therapy since I was 15. After 30 years and 15 therapists, I’ve called it quits. Not because I was cured because I couldn’t get the care I needed. Not all therapists are the same. And even if someone has the credentials I am looking for, doesn’t mean it will work out. I have seen social workers, psychologists (PhDs and PsyD), psychiatrists, and psych RN. The first 10 I saw within the first 10 years of starting therapy. Each therapist I saw didn’t last more than a year. One resident I saw lasted three years, till the end of her residency, but she moved on and I didn’t see her again. I tried DBT (Dialectical Behavioral Therapy), CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy), and the various psychodynamic therapies out there.

My suicidal career took up talk for the last 10 years of therapy, maybe more as it got more serious and I didn’t want to live anymore. I started researching into the different treatment options and found very little to help myself. The therapist I was seeing at the time was stuck in her ways didn’t want to adapt to what I wanted her to do in therapy to help me. It was frustrating. Then I saw a PsyD with the credentials and I thought yes! This is going to work out finally. But it didn’t because she didn’t have empathy and couldn’t give me validation when I needed it the most.

What I learned from my research into suicidology is that the person needs to tell their story of why they are suicidal. It needs to be heard by an empathic person who validates why they are suicidal. They also should appear eager to listen and to know more about the person, their pain and suffering. To find out where it hurts and to try and heal it the best they can. I can go on about things like perturbation, lethality, constriction, and psychache but those are just words no one uses anymore.

Living with pain— physical or emotional— for years is a traumatic stressor. The experience of living with pain evokes many of the same responses that being subjected to abuse or neglect does. — Dr. Glenn Patrick Doyle

I came across this quote while scrolling through Twitter. Dammit this guy always posts something when I am in the feels. He is correct. Pain does have the same responses as being abused or neglected. I have suffered physical pain consistently 24/7/365 for the past twelve years. Each time my foot or ankle flared up, I had flashbacks of when my back gave out ten years prior. I had to go through a series of checklists to make sure it wasn’t happening again, each time, nearly every single day. Once I had a diagnosis for the pain the checklist checking stopped but the feelings of the trauma didn’t.

My therapist who I just stopped seeing, asked me what I was looking for in therapy. But I didn’t have the words. As I am reading the book Building a Therapeutic Alliance with the suicidal Patient, I am figuring out what I need in therapy. I knew she wasn’t able to give me what I need. I am not really sure what I need. I know I want someone to talk to tell my story to. For them to listen, empathically and compassionately to what I have to say about why I am suicidal and why it has become my only option left to me.

two cup of coffee day

Two cup of coffee day

I am having my second cup of coffee because I woke up late and I don’t want to go back to sleep. I had every intention to get up by 10 and go to the lab to get my blood drawn but it never happened. I woke up around 1130 to pee and then I went back to sleep. I got up a couple of hours later to have coffee and some oatmeal. I bought some fig bars, which I will never buy again. There are two small fig newton sized bars in the package. They were good though didn’t have as much fruit inside as I thought it would. I ate three packages. Then I read the box and there was more potassium than sodium per bar. Yikes. Hope it doesn’t cause any heart problems later.

I didn’t go to the pain group today. I just wasn’t interested. I got a call from my dentist. They want to discuss the first step in getting the implant done. I got the estimate yesterday. I have to pay $1000 for one fucking tooth. I don’t have the money. I would have to go on a payment plan but seeing as I plan on dying in a year, I don’t see the point in going for the expense.

It feels really weird not having therapy anymore. I read another chapter of Building a therapeutic alliance yesterday. The chapter was about suicide as an action directed thing. I really tried to follow along but I am going to have to re-read the chapter again to really try and understand it. It quoted Dr. Shhneidman who I love. I am going to attend the first suicide research symposium on Thursday. It starts at 1130a so I hope I am up by then.

I am having a big problem getting up in the morning. Part of the reason is that I am up in the middle of the night. I have noticed on nights where I sleep through (from say 1am on), I am more likely to be up by 9am. On nights where I am up around 3am, I am tired all day and sleep through the morning and sometimes the afternoon, depending if I have an appointment or not. I am more likely to nap around 5pm or at least rest for an hour or so before taking my night meds and paying attention to the Sox game. I have tried not to get on my phone when I am up in the middle of the night but when I have messages, it is hard. I might have to be mindful and put the do not disturb on. I think that blocks notification until it is turned off.

a case of the missing case

A case of the missing case

I switched glasses a few weeks ago and I had the glasses I liked in a case. I had the case on my bed. Now I can’t find it and I have looked everywhere for it. By the bed, on the floor, behind my bed, under and over the sheets and blankets. In boxes that were on my bed. It is no where to be found. I checked the drawer by my bed thinking maybe I put it in there but nope, not there. I will find it when I am looking for something else. Isn’t that how it always goes?

I woke up early this morning, just before 0600. I was having bad dreams where I had attempted suicide and was pissed I survived but the thing was I was still sick yet I was walking all around the ED like nothing was wrong with me. I wanted pain medication and was denied. That pissed me off. They said I had to go for immunology blood work before I could be give the meds. So I went to the immunology lab to get my blood drawn. There wasn’t a place to get your blood drawn there so I had to go to another place outside of the hospital. It was so weird. I just was walking all over the place and like Burger King was there and some coffee place. And a pizza joint. So bizarre.

If I brush my teeth today, it will be third day in a row. I think I will before my uro appointment that I don’t want to go to but I need to tell him I have stopped the meds and how my urinating is going. It can be said in a message but seeing as I am seeing him, might as well tell him in “person”.

I am listening to evermore by Taylor, the song. I can relate to this song so much. “This pain will be evermore”. I have been experiencing a lot of pain since my baby sister decided that I needed to get off my meds and be holistic. She also implied that I should eat healthy. I wanted to reply sure go ahead and get good food that I can’t afford. The day before I told her I was depressed and she asked if there was someone I could call. I was reaching out to her. But obviously she didn’t want to be bothered. We haven’t spoken since that day. I no longer have a supportive member in my family, aside from my kids but they are young adults and I feel funny leaning on them. They have their own problems. My heart is broken. And I have no therapist which really sucks. I have my psychiatrist but I only see him once a month, sometimes every two months. He is really supportive but my only means of communicating with him is through the patient webthingy. I hate it because everything I write becomes a part of my medical record so I need to be careful when communicating my suicidality. He is also part time so I can only call him in an emergency on Tues and Thurs. I see him this week. I am glad because we have a lot to talk about.

Had the appointment with the uro. He apologized for using the wrong pronouns in my record the first visit I had with him. He said it took a lot of effort to get it done. I am glad he did because I am not a SHE! The visit went well. He is okay with me stopping the uro meds as I am emptying my bladder. He doesn’t like the volume I am having every four hours so now I have to cath every two hours. Fucking fuck. I just put on the med alarm to remind me to go. This is going to be “fun” going to the bathroom so often. I got three boxes of caths left. I might have to call the supply company and get a new order in. I am also going to keep track of how many catheters I use in a day. Right now the amount is 6 but with me going every 2 hours it might be double that. I’m not in the mood to measure my urine today but will try tomorrow to see how much I void.

Animal pic

Golden pup with black glasses who has nose in a book asleep