Aa
Don't believe in therapy
I have had anxiety for many years and have tried therapy more times than I can count. It has never worked for me, even when I really like the therapist and feel very comfortable with them. I have no trouble being open and honest with them, I hold nothing back, I am more than ready and willing to get to the bottom of my anxiety issues, but not one of these therapist has been of any help to me at all. (Some were psychiatrists) I have questioned myself extensively about my attitudes and expectations, but believe that I am not hiding anything from myself, not harboring any sort of resentment towards these people who I truely believe want to help me. I feel my expectations are within normal boundries. I'm not expecting miracles or overnight cures. I am willing to put in the work I know is being asked of me. Yet, I get nowhere..............what am I not doing right? There must be SOMETHING. There is no big dark secret I am hiding, nothing I am afraid to talk about or reveal about myself. I don't feel like I am witholding anything............but I walk away empty handed every time. Still dragging the anxiety behind me like an unwanted poodle. Any ideas?
Thanks so much.
Thanks so much.
Therapy is definetly NOT the whole answer to everything. Matter of fact, NOTHING is the whole answer to everything. The trick is to match up the right treatment to the particular problem. Who cares about "everything?"
No question about it: the path to anxiety which appears to have a life of its own may actually lead back to thyroid, hormones or neck problems or nutritional deficiencies, for that matter. And that is why, in the initial stages, anyway, one does a LOT of checking for independent contributors to the anxiety. And if that checking has NOT been done in your case, then perhaps it should be. And the fact that therapy has, thus far, proven unfruitful in your case may indeed point to something not at all within the realm of therapy. Check it out.
On the other hand, anxiety, even if arising from some cause not of the brain, may become enough of a nuisance that it should be treated AS anxiety no matter the source. And that is why doctors come up with secondary and tertiary diagnoses, which is simpy their way of saying "there's more than one thing going on here."
And so, we hope to hear from you soon about this possibility -and hope to hear, as well, that whatever it is -it ain't no more.
No question about it: the path to anxiety which appears to have a life of its own may actually lead back to thyroid, hormones or neck problems or nutritional deficiencies, for that matter. And that is why, in the initial stages, anyway, one does a LOT of checking for independent contributors to the anxiety. And if that checking has NOT been done in your case, then perhaps it should be. And the fact that therapy has, thus far, proven unfruitful in your case may indeed point to something not at all within the realm of therapy. Check it out.
On the other hand, anxiety, even if arising from some cause not of the brain, may become enough of a nuisance that it should be treated AS anxiety no matter the source. And that is why doctors come up with secondary and tertiary diagnoses, which is simpy their way of saying "there's more than one thing going on here."
And so, we hope to hear from you soon about this possibility -and hope to hear, as well, that whatever it is -it ain't no more.
From what I've seen therapy is great however it's not the whole answer to anything. Have you ruled out all the physical reasons for anxiety? Thyroid for example?
My personal experience with anxiety is that it has either been caused by hormones or severe neck problems. When these things are under control so too is my anxiety. I have no more and probably fewer issues in my life to deal with than the average soul so I've come to recognize anxiety as a symptom.
Doctor's don't have all the answers (and I've not had great luck with them) but they are worth trying.
Remember to do the obvious, eat well, get lots of rest, get regular exercise and avoid things that might trigger your problems such as stress, caffeine and alcohol. Might not fix anything but it sure won't hurt.
My personal experience with anxiety is that it has either been caused by hormones or severe neck problems. When these things are under control so too is my anxiety. I have no more and probably fewer issues in my life to deal with than the average soul so I've come to recognize anxiety as a symptom.
Doctor's don't have all the answers (and I've not had great luck with them) but they are worth trying.
Remember to do the obvious, eat well, get lots of rest, get regular exercise and avoid things that might trigger your problems such as stress, caffeine and alcohol. Might not fix anything but it sure won't hurt.
I can almost GAR-ON-TEE that if you don't BELIEVE in therapy, it won't work. And I can almost GAR-ON-TEE that if you DO believe in therapy, it won't work. That's right. WON'T work either way.
Therapy, alas, is not a belief kind of thing. You don't believe, you don't disbelieve. You just DO it. As wolfie has observed, it is another word for: "work." So, when you say you don't believe in therapy, it is the same as saying you don't believe in work. I "get it" that "Don't believe in therapy" is just a title for your post -that there wasn't enough room in the tiitle to say all that you had to say. That, after all, is what the big text box is for. Nonetheless, it is what you chose to say, in just a few words. So it sends a message.
But what you really mean, I think, is that your anxiety does not appear to have been relieved by the therapy. I don't mean to tease you, but what evidence do you have that the anxiety would not be worse, but for the therapy? There is no way to know, really. And we really don't have any idea what the nature of your therapy was. Since you refer to getting to the bottom of anxiety issues, I assume the therapy explored childhood experiences, when you firt noticed panic, how it acts in you and much very "deep" material.
Yet you present with a sort of "flat affect" on the matter. Well articulated, but well articulated as medical notes about some horrible disfirgurement might be. I don't hear anything about your pain and struggle. Which calls to mind what Wolfie had to say: "Maybe being without anxiety and depression is scary for you..."
Exactly. The anxiety has a purpose, it is a psychological mechanism that come from the same tool kit as all the others. So we might ask, what is your anxiety doing FOR you? You don't have to tell me, but it is a question you might want to ask yourself, or the latest "bum of the month" who sits there across from you with pad and pencil looking for some crack in your defenses. Come to that, I would suspect that the most effective therapists you had were the ones you did NOT like, who made you uncomfortable; I would suspect -just a hunch, mind you- that the potentially most valuable therapists were the ones who were most like an adult figure from your childhood who attemtpted to take something from you, or so you thought. And your defense was a lucid and thorough and facially honest discussion of whatever subject matter laid before you at the time. And your defense was and is very much like a smooth, polished granite wall.
The "trick" of therapy of course is to find some experience or conditions in the past which influenced your ways of thinking at the time in such a way as to produce anxiety, which subsequently became attached to succeeding conditions as you grew up -you caiied it ahead with you into life -like a poodle you are dragging behind you, which is a perfect aphorism.
Let me tell you MY defining event, and see if that helps you find yours. I'll call this the "Last Good Thing That Ever Happened Between my Father and Me." My father bought a used sail boat when I was 7 or 8 (or 6 or 7). He didn't know how to sail. This boat was a "heap," leaky and unsteady and old. The two of us set out together to "learn how to sail." It was a disaster. We ended up sinking about 300 yards from the dock. And it was the most fun I ever had. In my eyes, Dad always did everything "right." And on this occasion, everything was going wrong. And he laughed at his own ineptitude as the boat filled with water and we could not possibly bail fast enough. What was so pleasing about this was to see things go wrong, and yet he did not curse angrily. We both laughed. He, alas was as naive as I was about sailing. The boat sunk onto a mud flat, and we made it to shore and walked home. When he asked me if I would like to try another trip later on, I signed on enthusiastically. We reported our undoing to Mother, laughing again at the re-telling, and she went into hysterics with us. I just could not WAIT for the next disaster. But there was no "next" trip.
Instead, Dad decided to buy a "real" sailboat, join the local yacht club and learn how to race. He got the new boat, bought books on sailing and racing, even bought litttle plastic models to illustrate techniques. All very cool, I thought. And so, when he asked me be his "crew" in a race, I signed up. But now, the situation was different. Racing -competing- was serious business. And now, nothing I did was right or good enough. The sheets were too tight or too loose, I wasn't fast enough or I was too fast. He started raising his voice with me. He was frustrated. I raced one or two more times, hoping for a different outcome, but it only got worse. Ultimately, it was my older sister and my mother who became crew. I became the "weak link." When I say our sinking experience was the "last good thing" I don't mean that there were never any more good things, for indeed, there were. I mean, rather, that a boundary had been crossed. My understanding of Dad moved from a fundamental sense of security and happiness to a performance-based fear of him. And among the devices I used to cope with this was helplessness and sickness and not being "able." Of course, there is a lot more to this story, but I think you can see how panic and anxiety found a way "in" to my psychology; and they stayed with me for the 40+ years until my recovery, though therapy. To this day, I cannot tell this pivotal story of my personal history without wanting to both laugh and cry -and I weep as I write this.
My psychiatrist's notes will say something like, "age inappropriate demands of father," and that would be right. But, it really doesn't tell the story. The story is in the heart, in the gut, in your feelings and until such time as you can connect with that, there is more therapy to be done.
The "Last Good Thing" was not the specific cause of my anxiety, in the sense of a smoking gun, but rather a significant experience that has meaning for me -one which captures the very essence of what happened over a number of years. There were, of course, preceeding events and situations that made me vulnerable, and there were succeeding events and situations which turned out as they did because of the emotional course that had been charted. It might even be safe to say that if the sinking sailboat experience NEVER happened, I still would have turned out as I did. And it is even possible that I fabricated the memory -that it never really played out as I said, or maybe did not happen at all. (I do have 3rd party verification). None of that matters -what matters is that the story, like all good stories, is emotionally correct and true and explains me -TO me. Recalling it, reliving it, sitting there in my pyschiatrist's office, tears rolling down my cheeks, sobbing.
Should I hate my father for this? No, on the contrary, his attitude toward me in the racing venues and subsequent scenarios in which my performance disappointed or hurt him became a demonstration to me of HIS humanity, his burdens, his weakness. Knowing this -as an adult- made my last few years with him were very good ones. How I do miss him. Forgiveness? None. There is nothing to forgive. But there was much, and is much, to understand, and in understanding, you find truth.
And the truth, will set you free.
What say you?
Therapy, alas, is not a belief kind of thing. You don't believe, you don't disbelieve. You just DO it. As wolfie has observed, it is another word for: "work." So, when you say you don't believe in therapy, it is the same as saying you don't believe in work. I "get it" that "Don't believe in therapy" is just a title for your post -that there wasn't enough room in the tiitle to say all that you had to say. That, after all, is what the big text box is for. Nonetheless, it is what you chose to say, in just a few words. So it sends a message.
But what you really mean, I think, is that your anxiety does not appear to have been relieved by the therapy. I don't mean to tease you, but what evidence do you have that the anxiety would not be worse, but for the therapy? There is no way to know, really. And we really don't have any idea what the nature of your therapy was. Since you refer to getting to the bottom of anxiety issues, I assume the therapy explored childhood experiences, when you firt noticed panic, how it acts in you and much very "deep" material.
Yet you present with a sort of "flat affect" on the matter. Well articulated, but well articulated as medical notes about some horrible disfirgurement might be. I don't hear anything about your pain and struggle. Which calls to mind what Wolfie had to say: "Maybe being without anxiety and depression is scary for you..."
Exactly. The anxiety has a purpose, it is a psychological mechanism that come from the same tool kit as all the others. So we might ask, what is your anxiety doing FOR you? You don't have to tell me, but it is a question you might want to ask yourself, or the latest "bum of the month" who sits there across from you with pad and pencil looking for some crack in your defenses. Come to that, I would suspect that the most effective therapists you had were the ones you did NOT like, who made you uncomfortable; I would suspect -just a hunch, mind you- that the potentially most valuable therapists were the ones who were most like an adult figure from your childhood who attemtpted to take something from you, or so you thought. And your defense was a lucid and thorough and facially honest discussion of whatever subject matter laid before you at the time. And your defense was and is very much like a smooth, polished granite wall.
The "trick" of therapy of course is to find some experience or conditions in the past which influenced your ways of thinking at the time in such a way as to produce anxiety, which subsequently became attached to succeeding conditions as you grew up -you caiied it ahead with you into life -like a poodle you are dragging behind you, which is a perfect aphorism.
Let me tell you MY defining event, and see if that helps you find yours. I'll call this the "Last Good Thing That Ever Happened Between my Father and Me." My father bought a used sail boat when I was 7 or 8 (or 6 or 7). He didn't know how to sail. This boat was a "heap," leaky and unsteady and old. The two of us set out together to "learn how to sail." It was a disaster. We ended up sinking about 300 yards from the dock. And it was the most fun I ever had. In my eyes, Dad always did everything "right." And on this occasion, everything was going wrong. And he laughed at his own ineptitude as the boat filled with water and we could not possibly bail fast enough. What was so pleasing about this was to see things go wrong, and yet he did not curse angrily. We both laughed. He, alas was as naive as I was about sailing. The boat sunk onto a mud flat, and we made it to shore and walked home. When he asked me if I would like to try another trip later on, I signed on enthusiastically. We reported our undoing to Mother, laughing again at the re-telling, and she went into hysterics with us. I just could not WAIT for the next disaster. But there was no "next" trip.
Instead, Dad decided to buy a "real" sailboat, join the local yacht club and learn how to race. He got the new boat, bought books on sailing and racing, even bought litttle plastic models to illustrate techniques. All very cool, I thought. And so, when he asked me be his "crew" in a race, I signed up. But now, the situation was different. Racing -competing- was serious business. And now, nothing I did was right or good enough. The sheets were too tight or too loose, I wasn't fast enough or I was too fast. He started raising his voice with me. He was frustrated. I raced one or two more times, hoping for a different outcome, but it only got worse. Ultimately, it was my older sister and my mother who became crew. I became the "weak link." When I say our sinking experience was the "last good thing" I don't mean that there were never any more good things, for indeed, there were. I mean, rather, that a boundary had been crossed. My understanding of Dad moved from a fundamental sense of security and happiness to a performance-based fear of him. And among the devices I used to cope with this was helplessness and sickness and not being "able." Of course, there is a lot more to this story, but I think you can see how panic and anxiety found a way "in" to my psychology; and they stayed with me for the 40+ years until my recovery, though therapy. To this day, I cannot tell this pivotal story of my personal history without wanting to both laugh and cry -and I weep as I write this.
My psychiatrist's notes will say something like, "age inappropriate demands of father," and that would be right. But, it really doesn't tell the story. The story is in the heart, in the gut, in your feelings and until such time as you can connect with that, there is more therapy to be done.
The "Last Good Thing" was not the specific cause of my anxiety, in the sense of a smoking gun, but rather a significant experience that has meaning for me -one which captures the very essence of what happened over a number of years. There were, of course, preceeding events and situations that made me vulnerable, and there were succeeding events and situations which turned out as they did because of the emotional course that had been charted. It might even be safe to say that if the sinking sailboat experience NEVER happened, I still would have turned out as I did. And it is even possible that I fabricated the memory -that it never really played out as I said, or maybe did not happen at all. (I do have 3rd party verification). None of that matters -what matters is that the story, like all good stories, is emotionally correct and true and explains me -TO me. Recalling it, reliving it, sitting there in my pyschiatrist's office, tears rolling down my cheeks, sobbing.
Should I hate my father for this? No, on the contrary, his attitude toward me in the racing venues and subsequent scenarios in which my performance disappointed or hurt him became a demonstration to me of HIS humanity, his burdens, his weakness. Knowing this -as an adult- made my last few years with him were very good ones. How I do miss him. Forgiveness? None. There is nothing to forgive. But there was much, and is much, to understand, and in understanding, you find truth.
And the truth, will set you free.
What say you?
I can only tell you from my own experience - I went to therapy for years and still do occasionally. For me, therapy was work - the therapist, psychiatrists, etc. could guide me in a certain direction but they couldn't do the actual "work" for me. This isn't meant to insult you in any way. I think that letting go of my anxiety and depression was just too scary. I had nothing to replace them with.
IMHO you aren't doing anything wrong. You are honest and articulate. Maybe being without anxiety and depression is scary for you too. Sometimes hanging onto the fears we know is easier than going into the unknown.
I hope I didn't offend you; that was not my intent = )
IMHO you aren't doing anything wrong. You are honest and articulate. Maybe being without anxiety and depression is scary for you too. Sometimes hanging onto the fears we know is easier than going into the unknown.
I hope I didn't offend you; that was not my intent = )
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