Thanks so much for your question. Boy, it sounds like you’re going through a really tough time, and I’m sorry to hear about your childhood abuse; I know how intrusive and debilitating posttraumatic stress symptoms can be. What’s kind of a “double whammy” here is the fact therapy doesn’t seem to be helping. What’s interesting to me is that it sounds as though it’s all up to you to make it work, when in fact the therapist is a 50/50 collaborator in the process. It’s sad to me you feel you’re “blindly” fumbling around, as if you have no help finding direction. I always challenge my clients when they take whole blame for any “stuckness.” Therapist and client form a system, like two atoms in a molecule, and every relational system seems to reach a kind of homeostasis, or regular pattern, which on the one hand provides a sense of stability and reliability, but on the other can lead to the sort of stalemate you’re talking about. I would agree with you that you’re not capable of change by yourself; your therapist needs to be an active participant, and the way you describe therapy makes it sound as though there’s tremendous distance between you two.
I’m also curious as to what made you decide to quit at that particular juncture. A sense of boredom? Frustration? Sometimes it takes time to get to a point where change begins, but until then it can feel eternally slow. I’m not saying that’s happening here, but sometimes we hit a wall, and just beyond the wall is a new phase. Always darkest before the dawn, as the cliché goes. Sometimes it’s true.
I want to tell you that—and I have zero doubt about this—your therapist is part of the problem here, and the solution. Therapy is, in part, a business arrangement, and as the customer you are not satisfied and have every right to voice your concerns. I would strongly encourage you to have at least one more session and air your true feelings. Let it all hang out; we’re professionals, but we’re not perfect, and feedback is terribly important. Yes, it’s true that we are “experts” of a kind, but psychology is not medicine (it’s part art/part science, in my view). Everyone is different and comes with his or her own history, perceptions, feelings and interpretations that warrant close exploration so that you and your therapist can co-construct a way of working that you both feel is productive and going somewhere. It’s almost like co-creating a language that exists solely within the “psychic sphere” of therapy, to borrow Freud’s phrase.
On another note: One of the many sad things about trauma is it can challenge us in forming attachments to others, including, of course, to the therapist. He or she may become an authority or parental figure whom we are afraid to confront, but clients often report that it is very healing for them to tell me the truth when something bothers them, and to have me listen and understand each of our contributions so we can work it through. Some of the very best work happens when a client is unhappy with something and we process it. Additionally, there are often beliefs about the self based on past abuse that have to be brought to light. Some may unconsciously feel they “deserve” to suffer because of the belief that they brought the trauma on themselves. To a child, assuming they are the cause is less frightening than no cause at all. I hear a note of this when you ask if you are capable of change. Everyone is capable of change, my friend—in fact, we are changing every second of every day! We are organic, physically and psychologically. It’s the illusion or experience of staying the same that is so painful. (The new gray hairs I saw in the mirror today are testament to this.)
There are even unconscious motives for change not to happen, in some cases. Abuse and mistreatment are often, tragically, the only way some caretakers have ever related to their children; clinging to the symptoms is, symbolically (for some), a way of holding on to Mom or Dad. Some would rather believe they are bad than accept that their caretaker, often idealized, treated them so horribly. It’s like losing a parent, and the underlying grief and loss can create terrible apprehension. All of this needs to be explored in the consulting room.
I’m describing a very psychodynamic way of working, by the way. There are other modalities to employ with these types of injuries, including cognitive behavioral therapy, EMDR, somatic experiencing, neurofeedback, spirituality, peer support, and so forth. I use an eclectic mix, depending on what the client finds helpful. But again, without sustained feedback, I don’t know what’s helpful.
You might also look into a peer support group instead of, or in addition to, individual treatment. Finding a group of people who can relate and accept you as you are, because of (not in spite of) your challenges, can be tremendously healing.
Please don’t give up. I recommend that you talk to your therapist or try with another one, and ask for a treatment plan or set of goals that you both agree are obtainable and desirable. Each goal should have specific methods or ways of working that you both, again, feel comfortable with. The technique of therapy shouldn’t be a mystery; there are many unknowns, of course, but this isn’t hocus pocus and there have been some tried-and-true methods shown to work over the past hundred years. The key one appears to be a trusting relationship with your therapist, and I think that even if you decide this one ultimately isn’t for you, you deserve a fair hearing as to why you’re unhappy and the changes you’d really like to see (and what seems to be getting in the way). You don’t and shouldn’t have to go through this alone.
Respectfully,
Darren
The preceding article was solely written by the author named above. Any views and opinions expressed are not necessarily shared by GoodTherapy.org.