Therapy

For the past week or so, I've been contemplating going to see a therapist/psychiatrist/psychologist, or whatever you want to call it - same shit, different degrees. I'm still on the fence about it. I don't have insurance, so I'd have to pay out of pocket. I could handle that if I could find one who accepted payments on a sliding scale.  Then there is the issue of getting there without my family knowing, as my parents are not very...fond...of the idea of therapy (for obvious reasons). Finally, there is the issue of it actually helping or not.

I saw my first therapist in high school. I was a sophomore when my guidance counselor pretty much told my parents that if they didn't get me help, I would be suspended/expelled, and they would be reported.  Yes, that seems harsh, but you have to consider the fact that I had been having issues since my freshman year and my counselor had made numerous failed attempts at getting me further help.

My first course of therapy was rather unproductive. I went to see my therapist once a week and my psychiatrist once every other month.  My first diagnosis: Bipolar Disorder. Of course, that meant daily medication, monthly blood testing, mood charts, and other crap I found to be pointless. The medication didn't make me feel any different and I knew, after researching the disorder, that I most likely didn't have it.  As for therapy...well, I think the therapist got more therapy than I did. I know I'm not a very social person, but she definitely talked 85% of the time AT LEAST. She had a lot of personal stories to tell. I rarely got a chance to tell any of mine.

After several months, my therapist got a position at a hospital, and would no longer be doing individual sessions. I saw this as a perfect opportunity out. I pretended I was fine, and didn't need therapy anymore. I promised to see the psychiatrist every other month to check on my medication. I never saw the therapist again, or the psychiatrist for that matter. My parents never made another appointment.

A couple of years passed before I had to see another psychiatrist. This time, it was my job pushing for me to get professional help.  Even though I was 19 years old at the time, my boss decided to call my mother and discuss my personal issues I was going through at the time with her. Despite the illegality of that, I didn't have the energy at that time to fight it. They told my mother they would have her arrested, which my mother was dumb enough to believe and she called the doctor the next day.

The second therapist was also a psychiatrist, and much better than the first.  He didn't talk about himself nearly as much as my first therapist did. We shared a lot of the same taste in music, we both played the guitar, and had a similar level of intelligence to which I was able to connect more easily than I had with the prior therapist. I also liked the fact that he didn't put me on medication. I told him that I was previously diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. He didn't agree. His diagnosis was PTSD, depression, and anxiety.  I saw him every other week, but even that didn't last long. I realized after awhile that he was avoiding talking about certain issues, like self-injury, that I really needed help with. I don't think it was because he was uncomfortable with it, I just think he was probably unfamiliar with it, as many psychiatrists and therapists seem to be. I knew that if I couldn't talk about these issues, nothing was going to change. My family was becoming increasingly agitated about me going to therapy. So I walked in one day, told him I felt better, and never came back to see him again. I thought it was the best decision for everyone.

Since then, I've been dealing with my issues on my own.  In some ways, I'm better than I was years ago, but in some ways I'm actually worse. As much as I try to do it on my own, I don't think I can. I am definitely a lot more open about things than I was ten or even five years ago, but being open to people who can't really help me isn't beneficial to me in the long run.  I just wish I could find someone who really understands my issues.