Posts Tagged ‘therapist’

I guess I don’t really need something dramatic to fill up this space every time I write. I notice that is usually when I write-when shit hits the fan. I’ll write about family today, and the aspect that everyone seemed to negate in my life namely therapists.

I’d often complain or be sad that I don’t have a family, saying that’s who is supposed to help me through the rough times. Therapists always gave the generic, “Your family’s toxic, you need to find friends who you can utilize as your support system”. Then I went to Denmark, and prior to my arrival, during my last appointment with my dietician, she said I could stay here (at the treatment center) for a really long time, and that I’ve built a support system here.

I told her that I’d be living with a host family and she said, “That’s not the same, they’re not going to be your family.” Those words dug at me deep because I knew that DIS (where I study abroad) hooks students up with amazing host families and that the experience was more than a traditional host family (not that I’ve had much to compare to).

Still,  I didn’t have much to retort with to her aside from, “it’s different”.

Fast forward to four months later, my last night in Denmark before I was leaving on a short break. I walked through the doors after completing my last final exam and found that my host grandpa died unexpectedly. I felt compelled to stay and not leave the following day, though I had business to care of in the US.

Before she went to bed, I gave my host sister a present. Her mom, “our” mom Katja was around as I gave the gift.

Months earlier, Victoria had seen my harmonica and really seemed to want her own. This was the gift I gave to her that night.

Katja began tearing up, saying that her father played the harmonica. I had unknowingly kept a tradition going while making my 9 year old Danish sister satisfied.

Serendipitous moment.



I’ve talked a lot with the Somatic Experiencing Practitioner I see. Even though this kind of practitioner does less talking and more body work, the option to do so hasn’t been around as I’ve been abroad. Every week, we’ve done FaceTime conversations.

I digress. The reason I mention the talking is because one thing under heavy discussion is that I continually overwhelm therapists or other similar practitioners to the point that they will do one of a few things:

1. refer me elsewhere

2. say they don’t know how to help me

3. say they’re not willing to help me

Due to these reasons, I find it very incapacitating at times to begin an opening up process or merely letting anyone in. I don’t actually believe there is an individual out there who can hear it all and take it in-being an active attuned listener who can express true empathy. I am not looking for sympathy-there is a major difference between someone feeling sorry for me and someone who has the ability to step into my shoes almost quite literally. With the SEP, we discussed how some people just don’t have the capacity to handle it all.

You know what? People’s capacities suck! If I have to endure the amount of shit I’ve had to, the least someone in a helping profession can do is not give up on me again. I’m sick of expressing myself and told to stop sharing in a group because even a therapist is overwhelmed at my situation. Most of what I’ve gone through has been an unfortunate series of events that I’ve had no control in (at the time). How I currently react to the past is mostly within my control.

It’s fucking disheartening when people can’t even listen to my story, never mind experience it. After all, I’m not asking them to go experience chronic childhood physical abuse and neglect. I’m not asking them to have endured 20+ traumas as I have. I’m asking them to listen, to be a compassionate human being. Apparently that is even too hard for most people, even the “trained” professionals.

Considering I’ve never been a fan of lying, I have to set some things straight on here. I’m currently studying abroad and it has been one of the best experiences of my life. I’ve dealt with some major issues, all within the first few weeks of arriving. To make this readable, I won’t include the gritty details right now. I will sum it up as such:

-I found out the day before coming here that my brother was going to have brain surgery in a few weeks.

-Right before his surgery, my biological family insisted that I see him, didn’t believe I was studying abroad and harassed me about not seeing him.

-I asked my biological father (the only person I talk to on occasion to not tell anyone that I was here as I didn’t think it would ameliorate the situation.

-Said person did in fact break his word and tell people I was studying abroad. His relaying this fact did more harm than good as I had initially suspected.

-Prior to the surgery, my grandpa became sick suddenly and died. When I asked my father if I should attend the funeral, his e-mail reply was “no need to disrupt school”.

-No one told my brother about my grandpa dying until after his surgery. My dad didn’t even make it to his own dad’s funeral.

It’s no surprise that my motility disorder only worsened throughout my time here. I fucking hate food. Every single time I eat I either become nauseated, regurgitate food, throw up (unintentionally) or have gurgling in my esophagus and stomach indicative of the spasms.

Over the break, I hope to see some therapists and doctors that I had over the summer prior to coming here. My friends already say I should be in treatment again. I know that I do not want to end up in the cycle of treatment. Plus, I’ve been offered an amazing opportunity to extend my studies here doing a neuroscience internship at a hospital. These sorts of opportunities don’t just happen upon someone in the States, they are hard to come by. When presented with the possibility that I could become sicker while here, my honest response is “so what?”.

Bluntly put, I’d rather die at least trying to get ahead in life then return to my basically nothing life in the States. I’m sick of missing out on opportunities because I’m physically or emotionally unwell. I crave having a family and the host family I have here is the closest thing I’ve experienced to a “normal” family. I just have no desire to appear sad in front of them or express my negative emotions. I judge myself, thinking that they expect me to be level-headed because of my age. After all, their two older kids are younger than me and out of the house and supporting themselves from what I know. One even has a two year old. I believe in my twisted world I must come across as stable and without issues and this is how I portray myself to most everyone.

Sometimes, I see the school psychologist and lately she’s been questioning my mood. I know she can pick up on my sadness even though I assure her repeatedly that I’m FINE. FINE = fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional. Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t want my experiences to be halted by psychiatric treatment. Not here, not now. I just don’t know how much longer I can keep this jig up.


I think they expect me to fail. I think they yearn for it. If I fail and if they don’t respond to my needs, then maybe I won’t reach out to them. Those twisted people, the ones who are supposed to help, yet stray away at the first signal of need. They call themselves help. Really they’re just in it for the blasted money.

Sometimes I think I did something so awful in a past life, I must’ve been worse than Hitler to be so undeserving and not worthy of love or affection or happiness in this life. I must suffer along knowing that my pain seems endless, trying is at a point futile. I just want to be happy and help others, why must road blocks constantly develop?

Why can’t the pieces of the universe align for more than short periods of time? Why am I alive and constantly being teased, good things dangling in my path for a mere moment and suddenly ripped away. It hurts. Life hurts.

secret shhh

I wish I wasn’t writing this post. I wish I could focus long enough to do homework; my focus is too muddled. I want to write more than about how fucked up my relationship with my therapist is. I want to be excited for life. Problem is, my emotions get in the way, especially when midnight came last night, as I was saying goodnight to C.

C came over for a while to chill last night, and extremely long story short, I ended up telling her about the situation with me, B and K. She was hurt, she does want answers, as we both do.

Regardless, even if this is explainable (likely by K), I’m not sure I can continue having a relationship with K. I’m not sure if B’s intention is to make me so jealous that I’ll eventually leave and she’ll have K to herself (assuming K is doing only therapeutically relevant activities with B (and therefore charging her for additional time outside of the office).

I can totally see how this would be extremely conflicting and challenging for K. She probably never expected her clients to have interactions with one another, aside from the preexisting one she knew C and I had. By the way, there hadn’t been any sort of problems between K, C, and me. Sometimes C has even allowed K to tell me things they talked about in session. I get it. I also am well-aware not that C’s aware of the situation that this brings a whole entirely additional element of conflict for K and I’d like to think that either she changes her behavior (if she has done inappropriate things again) or I think it makes the most sense to drop her.

I’ve no clue what I’d do without her as a therapist. I’m done starting over, it’s hard to find DBT therapists and even just a therapist I trust. I’m afraid to make the move, and I’m afraid K will and she’ll choose who to keep and who not to. Though it seems obvious she ought to drop the person with whom she has inappropriate interactions with, it also makes sense that she would be the last off her client list.

And again, I’m numb and disconnected from emotion, and another person has to choke down a heck of a lot more information; information I knew would be beneficial for her to know but that would hurt her if she knew. Now she knows, and she too confirms that it’s inappropriate, and especially inappropriate for K to tell B to not say anything.

Secrets amongst therapist and clients that impact other clients are worse than secrets; they’re verbal weapons, the worst kind. One these secrets are exposed, as weapons, they don’t even puncture the skin, they go straight for the gut, the glory and they slash deep. They slash fast and without warning, and they hurt forever.

I can’t do this shit. The jealousy takes over and I feel like I constantly have someone lying to me from some angle. Everything K said to me in our last session and seemingly understandingly still had me contemplating the possibilities that B may be telling the truth and K is lying to me and I feel absolutely perplexed and stumped and out-of-wack.

This all began with a gun control panel my friend wanted to attend. I cautioned her away from it since she was in a bad spot and thought going would allow her to release some of her pent up emotions about this hot-button topic. I tried to steer her away from it, afraid her voice wouldn’t be heard to the effect she might anticipate.

Surprisingly, questions were allowed to be asked by the audience about one hour in. Equal gender distribution was in attendance and when fielding questions, 2 of the 10 questions “chosen” by the men panelists (female didn’t even speak) to be answered were male. Disgusted and ashamed that gender discrepancies continue to exist in a “liberal” nation. Males simply have two “near” circles below the navel, and females, above. If only it were that simple.

I walked out and left after cussing under my breath at their being no point in attending if not everyone can voice their opinion. My question would have been fielded to both parties, and addressed the individual panelist, not a political affiliation. The question would have been, “Have any of you ever seen a fellow human being who has sustained a gun shot wound?”

I firmly believe people’s opinions would change if they knew of a close range injury/emotional repercussion from force or threat with a firearm. I’ve had the “pleasure” of treating a patient with a gun shot wound to the head. I’ve also had a few guns pointed at me while holding a four month old baby by those meant to protect and serve.

To the student who got fired up and said “the reason for gun control is so the crazies don’t go and shoot their kids”and continued on huffing complete with a horrific, accusatory look on her face at my friend… you have NO IDEA who the crazies are… I think you’re one of them.

So yeah, you wanna speak your mind? Go the fuck ahead AFTER being exposed to a firearm outside of a controlled environment, outside of your protective bubble, away from a shooting range or hunting season (though I realize accidents/injuries occur there as well).

But anyway, I was so heated that I texted K, particularly because administration of the school was in attendance unbeknownst to me and I flat up left and am unsure if they heard what I said and will use that against me, some way somehow.

We had recently texted an hour prior to that for scheduling this week’s appointment. No response yet… one full hour later. And, according to B, she and K have spoken. So, who’s deceiving me? K, B, both?

If it’s B and she’s lying then how sick and how convoluted of a friendship do she and I have? Do we even have one? I think not. The moment I began to talk with her about something that was triggering, she made it known (and rightfully so if I believed she actually wanted to heal at this moment). I don’t feel let down, at least with her, just more of an inconvenience.

If K’s lying then it’s all about the money. It makes sense that she would text me when it’s financially-related… what about my fricking mental health though? Where’s my fucking support?

I hate that I’m going through this again. I feel trapped in an uncomfortable carousel, going round and round, without stopping. The images keep moving, life continues, and somehow I’m trapped and lost in translation.

Screen shot 2013-03-26 at 1.13.14 PM???

Love this phrase, all too often someone says he or she will do something, and behind the scenes another person comes to find the inaccuracies between what one is saying and what one is doing.

I now try to avoid people who cannot or do not live a generous life face-to-face AND when no one’s watching.

Let’s face it, someone or something is always watching. No I’m not going to preach religious or spiritual beliefs, all I’m saying is, don’t you count? Aren’t you watching yourself, holding (or not) yourself responsible for actions, words, etc.?

I’m not going to tell you I abide by a vegan diet, be really picky at any restaurant we go to, and then go home at night and devour a pepperoni pizza. It’s just not going to happen. I try to live an honest life. I specifically said prior to beginning a vegan diet, I would likely have an exception, and that exception would be frozen yogurt.

Friends continually asked me well, “what about ice cream”? “You can have that can’t you, because it’s close.” Sure, I suppose I could. Will I? Nope. I have tended to hold myself to my words most of my life. I can’t imagine saying one thing and doing another. Yes, I come across unbelievably blunt at times, or emotional, or flustered. Ok, I accept that. That’s me.

So how has this vegan diet been? Hah, I feel like I’m having a one-sided conversation with you readers. Thank you by the way, as always, for taking time out of your day/night to peruse this. I appreciate it! It was an interesting decision to become vegan days before Passover.

For those who aren’t familiar with this Jewish holiday, Passover has a lot of food restrictions, particularly if one is of Ashkenazim descent.

The vegan diet: no animal products or byproducts. The Ashkenazim Passover diet (taken from relatively accurate:

“Passover Kitniot

In the Ashkenazi tradition there are additional foods that are usually forbidden during Passover. These foods are called “kitniot” (pronounced kit-neeh-oat) and include: rice, millet, corn and legumes like beans and lentils. These foods are off limits because the rabbis determined they violated the principle of ma’arit ayin. This principle means that Jews should avoid even the appearance of impropriety. In the case of Passover, kitniot can be ground up and cooked with like flour, so they should be avoided.

In Sephardic communities kitniot are eaten during Passover. It is also not uncommon for vegetarians who identify as Ashkenazi Jews to follow the Sephardic tradition during Passover – it’s tough to be a vegetarian during Passover if chametz and kitniot are off the table!”

I didn’t want to delay this diet and constantly make excuses for why I hadn’t transferred to a vegan diet after saying I would the day after returning from Alternative Spring Break and so I didn’t. I also find it interesting that in this description of diet to follow for Passover, it mentions that vegetarians can esssentially change it up. I don’t believe that makes sense. My personal belief about being vegan or vegetarian is just that, personal. No one forced me to do it. My religion which is my culture and arguably engrained in my DNA won’t change even if I convert… my roots, my biological basis as a human is rooted in Ashkenazim Jewish heritage.

So what can I eat? What have I consumed thus far? Unfortunately, my choices are limited but hey, if I think about choice thousands of years ago when my ancestors were effectively wandering in the desert, I am relieved to have as much of a selection as I do. I am grateful.

Thus far, I’ve had whole wheat matzah, fruit, vitamin water (I’m ok with consuming foods or beverages that have no ingredients needing “kosherization”), Jordan Almonds, fruit pieces. Yep, that about sums it up. I do have a plethera of further choices for the upcoming week such as seaweed, kale chips, pistachios, and some products which would require baking (less than 18 minutes of course).

I told my therapist (K) on Sunday that I switched from a vegetarian diet to a vegan diet and the first question she asked, not in a rude way, was “why?” Initially I mentioned the health benefits a vegan diet provides and the evidence showing the benefits of a plant-based diet. Towards the end of the session I told her that it made it a lot easier to merely say I’m vegan than try to explain to people that I’m restricting my intake. I guess that sort of tipped the seesaw for her. She strongly encouraged me to begin attending an evening IOP (intensive outpatient program) to facilitate ways of better dealing with my emotions and those surrounding my weight.

Admittedly, I have lost quite a bit of weight over the past two weeks. I’m not going to put numbers up because I’m not actually trying to compete with anyone (actually reading this). I added the parentheses because I realized that in fact I think I am trying to compete with someone at a subconscious level. First, it was let’s get below my brother’s weight: He’s a mere 160 and 6 feet tall (attribute this to his illness). Then, I’m trying to surpass Barbara’s (I’m her progeny) weight. She nearly 60 years old, 5’6” and 125 pounds. She intends to keep it that way. From what I’ve noticed on Facebook pictures though, she’s likely a lot less (I suppose this is an illness too…. of a different sort).

I’m well-versed in this area. I know what I need to eat, I know how losing weight fast in an instant gratification sort of effort doesn’t pay off in the long run. I know a lot regarding physical well-being. Ironically, I continue to gravitate towards unhealthy coping mechanisms.