I've been in therapy for 15 months. I'd been to a number of talk therapists throughout my adult life. They ranged from somewhat helpful to a complete waste of time and money. I had given up on therapy as being able to address my issues. Everyone wanted to deal with my depression, but they couldn't offer me any solutions long-term that didn't involve either anti-depressants or weird sciencey sort of solutions that insurance didn't cover (and that I was honestly quite skeptical of). Or, you know, lots and lots of appointments talking about my past and my feelings. But I had a PTSD meltdown one day, when at a time of peak stress. My husband, who was the lucky recipient of said meltdown, insisted that I get back into therapy. He helped me overcome a bit of initial foot-dragging (because at the time I felt like yet another therapist would just be an upsetting waste of time), and combed through our health insurance's list of providers for a few options in our area.
Not having any basis of quality by which to evaluate the list, I picked the first therapist we went to strictly because his last name was also the name of a Spanish guitar song I'm partial to. My skepticism vanished however, when during the first fifteen minutes, as I described my difficulties - the mood swings, the occasional breakdown of my ability to communicate, the very occasional nightmares and the constant feelings of dread and sadness - he nods like he's heard it all before, and stuns me with a simple sentence: "You have PTSD."
None of the other therapists had ever even mentioned the term.
What followed was easily the most productive talk therapy of any I've ever engaged in. I had hit the jackpot and found not only a therapist, but someone I really saw as an ally in my life and recovery. We talked every week for long enough to unpack most of my issues and get me out of the crisis mode that I had been in, then went to every two weeks and eventually a month. At this point the symptoms had lessened to where there was only an occasional flare-up, but the sadness and the heaviness still remained. I understood my PTSD conceptually, but that didn't make it any easier when the adrenalin kicked in and I was having fight-or-flight reactions for no good reason.
To address this more directly, I eventually incorporated another healing modality that is, quite bluntly, extreme, slightly risky, and completely not approved by the AMA, such that I went to another country to have the procedure done. It involved (as a one-time treatment) a couple days of intensive therapy in a VERY heightened and vulnerable state. During that time I was brought straight to my emotional heart of darkness. It was nothing short of a life-changing event.
I don't necessarily recommend this avenue to others except in some very specific circumstances, but suffice to say it broke my personal logjam of several decades. (I did give my talk therapist a full breakdown of it beforehand, and he agreed it was worth a shot if I was up for it.)
To process the emotions this experience brought up, my talk therapist and I went back up to every two weeks (from every four weeks), then back down to every three weeks, and then yesterday, I realized, and he realized, that I was actually doing pretty OK. I am less focused on the trauma in the past and more able to focus on the real problems I have to tackle in my present. For a long time I could not see my present clearly because I was so burdened by sadness from the past. Now I just have the kinds of problems everyone else has - trying to better my life and improve my career and care for my husband. After all I've been through, those are good problems to have.
Six months ago, I was a little sad that I was only seeing my therapist once a month (even though I knew more wouldn't improve things) as I had come to depend on him for emotional support. Now, I don't feel that way at all. I had been expecting this day, but it was still a surprise to actually say the words, "I think I'm OK now."
Not having any basis of quality by which to evaluate the list, I picked the first therapist we went to strictly because his last name was also the name of a Spanish guitar song I'm partial to. My skepticism vanished however, when during the first fifteen minutes, as I described my difficulties - the mood swings, the occasional breakdown of my ability to communicate, the very occasional nightmares and the constant feelings of dread and sadness - he nods like he's heard it all before, and stuns me with a simple sentence: "You have PTSD."
None of the other therapists had ever even mentioned the term.
What followed was easily the most productive talk therapy of any I've ever engaged in. I had hit the jackpot and found not only a therapist, but someone I really saw as an ally in my life and recovery. We talked every week for long enough to unpack most of my issues and get me out of the crisis mode that I had been in, then went to every two weeks and eventually a month. At this point the symptoms had lessened to where there was only an occasional flare-up, but the sadness and the heaviness still remained. I understood my PTSD conceptually, but that didn't make it any easier when the adrenalin kicked in and I was having fight-or-flight reactions for no good reason.
To address this more directly, I eventually incorporated another healing modality that is, quite bluntly, extreme, slightly risky, and completely not approved by the AMA, such that I went to another country to have the procedure done. It involved (as a one-time treatment) a couple days of intensive therapy in a VERY heightened and vulnerable state. During that time I was brought straight to my emotional heart of darkness. It was nothing short of a life-changing event.
I don't necessarily recommend this avenue to others except in some very specific circumstances, but suffice to say it broke my personal logjam of several decades. (I did give my talk therapist a full breakdown of it beforehand, and he agreed it was worth a shot if I was up for it.)
To process the emotions this experience brought up, my talk therapist and I went back up to every two weeks (from every four weeks), then back down to every three weeks, and then yesterday, I realized, and he realized, that I was actually doing pretty OK. I am less focused on the trauma in the past and more able to focus on the real problems I have to tackle in my present. For a long time I could not see my present clearly because I was so burdened by sadness from the past. Now I just have the kinds of problems everyone else has - trying to better my life and improve my career and care for my husband. After all I've been through, those are good problems to have.
Six months ago, I was a little sad that I was only seeing my therapist once a month (even though I knew more wouldn't improve things) as I had come to depend on him for emotional support. Now, I don't feel that way at all. I had been expecting this day, but it was still a surprise to actually say the words, "I think I'm OK now."
