*I first mention counseling in a post I intended to devote only to
medications. This post is a continuation/clarification of that original
post, which you can read here.
Here's the scoop:
To start with a bit of history, I should share that I've seen various counselors over the span of my life. When I was 9 and my parents divorced, we all went to see a counselor. It was a wonderful experience that helped me a great deal. I saw her off and on for several sessions. I do not remember/know how long I saw her but she was an amazing therapist.
The next counselor I was forced to see was shortly after my brother's accident. It was a so-so experience. I was able to vent my anger and worry but didn't get much out of it. I was 14 and only went a handful of times...maybe only once but I cannot really remember. My mom and dad probably tried to get me to go more but I did not.
In college I spoke with a counselor a few times for random issues. It didn't feel right and I definitely did not click with him.
In early 2002, I started having issues again and went to see a psychiatrist, Dr. M. So, the counselor I saw in association with Dr. M is the whole reason for writing this post. She was a piece of work. Our first visit went okay. It was the first visit type of conversation where she was feeling me out and I was trying to be cooperative, honest and open. I got an assignment to create a "pain list." I was to write down everything bad that had ever happened to me, anything that had caused me emotional pain. So I worked on it. And worked on it. And worked on it some more. I was getting more and more depressed as I compiled this list.
On visit number two, I shared my list with her. She actually had the nerve to question why something I had written on my "pain list" was there. Why would that cause me pain? The audacity of this woman! But I shrugged it off. Maybe she was right. Was it really that big of a deal? Should it have caused me pain? Honestly, if I would have been at a better place at that time, I would have realized that I had every right to have whatever I wanted on my list and that everything on that list was valid TO ME.
The third visit was even worse. The woman talked more than she listened. And this talking wasn't offering me sage advice or introducing me to new coping mechanisms. No. She was talking about herself and telling me about her problems. Seriously?!?!?!
I was done. I wasn't going to pay a person who wasn't doing the job I was paying for. I wasn't going to sit there and have my feelings negated. I wasn't going to play counselor to the counselor.
I never went back to her.
Years later I had a preliminary meeting with a different counselor since it was suggested that counseling might help me. It didn't go well but it also didn't go poorly. I haven't gone again and don't know that I ever will. Counseling just isn't for me, or at least it hasn't been for me since that first magical time. However, if I could find the right counselor and clicked with him/her, then I would definitely give it a try.
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