wiredharbor18 said:My sessions vary quite a bit; sometimes they run for an hour, and other times they wrap up in about 15 minutes.
They're classified as supportive therapy, and her approach is such that she somehow manages to dig my underlying issues right out of my subconscious.
On the surface, I present as someone incredibly composed and steady, but once I sit down for a session, I usually end up crying my eyes out over everything I've been through.
We'll light a cigarette (though she makes sure to remind me how bad it is for me every single time🙂).
She has this knack for helping me ask the right questions—the kind where I actually end up surprising myself with the answers.
Most of the time, I'm the one doing the talking while she gently nudges me along.
She managed to pull some incredible realizations from my subconscious, including the things I feared most: that the core of the issue likely stems from my mother, which then leads into the broader family dynamic regarding our history with alcoholism.
Because of what I was going through back then, I was convinced I wasn't "normal" and that I wouldn't even survive another year given how much I was struggling. I felt useless, like I had no purpose and would never amount to anything.
But thanks to consistent therapy and medication, I managed to get through college, graduate, and I'm now nearing my Master's degree. I've also been able to build a stable relationship, and my entire perspective on the things that used to weigh me down has shifted completely.
By the time the depression and panic attacks started, I was still just a child.
In the beginning, it was so hard to open up; I mostly just sat there in silence (even though I was the one who sought help—I remember being in the ER at night, practically screaming because I needed a psychiatrist; I felt like I was dying because I didn't feel sane). But now, as funny as it sounds, I actually find myself looking forward to my next session.
If there's anything else you want to know, please just ask.
Are you planning on starting PT, and how does the process work in your area?
Support just means being there with "backing"—it’s about providing help, period. To the outside world, I’ve got it all together—totally composed and steady—but once I sit down for my therapy sessions? Yeah, I usually end up crying through half my life story.
Can you believe how much of a difference these make? Truly life-changing!Let's light up a cigarette—even if I get lectured about the health risks every single time. 🙂)
I have a knack for asking the right questions—the kind that actually lead me to answers I didn't even know I was looking for. It’s honestly a little surprising to myself sometimes!
Most of the time I'm the one doing all the talking—though she definitely knows how to egg me on.
Everything's looking good on my end—same here.She managed to pull some truly heavy stuff out of my subconscious—things I was terrified to face. It turns out my biggest fear was right: most of this stems from my mother, which then bleeds into our whole family dynamic and her struggle with alcoholism.
After everything I went through, I was honestly convinced I’d lost my mind—and that the sheer terror of it all would probably take me out before the year was up. I felt completely useless, like I had no purpose and no future at all.
Despite constant therapy and dealing with ADHD, I actually managed to get through college, graduate, and now I’m nearly finished with my Master's—it’s been quite the journey! On top of that, I've built a really steady relationship, and honestly, I have a much healthier outlook on all those things that used to weigh me down.
I’ve been dealing with depression and panic attacks since I was just a kid—it's been part of my life for as long as I can remember.
At first, I found it so incredibly hard to open up—I mostly just sat there in silence. And look, I did ask for help—I was actually at the ER in the middle of the night, literally screaming that I needed a psychiatrist because I felt like I was dying from how "not normal" I felt—but now, even though it feels a little silly to admit, I’m actually looking forward to my next therapy session.
If there's anything else you're curious about, just let me know.
Do you go to physical therapy, and how does that process usually work for you?[/I]
I don't have much else to add—my therapy sessions were pretty much the same. Once a week, always 45 minutes, and honestly? It really helped me get to know myself better. It allowed me to finally take my parents off their pedestals—as she puts it—so now, what they think about my life choices just doesn't carry the weight it used to.
As for how things kicked off, I honestly couldn't even find the words—I just showed up to my sessions with printed-out letters instead. But now, as we’re wrapping up this stage of therapy, she told me how much progress I've actually made. She thinks that after five and a half years, I can move down to just twice a month since I'm finally starting to stand on my own two feet—which, let's be honest, was always the whole point of this journey: growing up and finally learning to accept myself emotionally.
The issue is that I inherited my mom's genetics—she calls it having a "natural-born streak of gloom"—so I'll probably be on antidepressants for life. (By the way, I haven't told her, and I never will; it would absolutely kill her, and honestly, I wouldn't get any satisfaction out of it.)
I should mention—before I started seeing that private therapist about five and a half years ago, I spent roughly seven years in "public" counseling over at a community clinic. Honestly, my therapist there did more harm than good. She acted more like a life coach than a clinician, constantly throwing out suggestions like, "Why don't you try this?" or "Maybe you could do that..." which isn't really how therapy works. If you can't follow through on those suggestions, you just end up blaming the doctor—or worse, blaming yourself—and your self-esteem takes a massive hit. It wasn't that she was being malicious, per se, but her approach was just fundamentally flawed. Looking back, I wasted so many years—though maybe only half were actually productive, since we went from bi-weekly sessions down to once every three months. And voilà—nothing to show for it.
I started out on Prozac and Xanax, then switched to Zoloft through my private doctor—which was a lifesaver—but then this nasty depressive episode hit me out of nowhere. I also had to tackle my addiction to Xanax; I’d been on it for twelve years, so getting off it was a huge struggle. My doctor eventually put me on Fevarin. I’ve actually managed to taper the Xanax down to just one or two pills—some days I don't take any at all! I've been on the Fevarin for about six months now. I actually forgot to take my mood stabilizer, Lamictal, for a bit—senior moment, right? Honestly, these meds can really scramble your brain—ugh! I ended up having some massive mood swings where I was flying high and then crashing hard all in the same day. Phew, sorry for the long rant!
I can't quite make out what's in this link—it looks like the image might be broken or the file didn't load properly. If you were trying to share something specific, could you try uploading it again? I'd love to see it!