I saw my first therapist at about sixteen. Candice was nice, but as I continued to see her, I figured out she was a passive therapist. They are just there to listen to you sort things out; you simply talking leads the patient to have personal revelations. Or something. The problem with that for me was that I wasn’t coming to anything new in talking to her. I was telling her everything so she could help me. That wasn’t her style. Eventually, I just stopped seeing her. Rehashing everything in my brain was exhausting.
The next therapist I saw was at college. She offered more insight and tips on how to manage my night panic attacks. I really liked Donna. That year was especially lonely for me, and I felt depressed that my closest friend was my therapist. And therapists aren’t supposed to be your friends. They care about you, but there’s a delicate balance. The therapist-patient relationship is not like any other relationship you have. When I left the school, I had to leave my therapist. The thought of finding another one was too difficult.
It took a while for me to see another. Sandy had more active techniques and used some CBT and anxiety-coping skills. It was promising. Then something came up that I hadn’t discussed with other therapists and I felt that Sandy was arguing with me. I felt, for the first time with a therapist, that she wasn’t listening. That was the last time I met with her.
On Tuesday, I go see yet another new therapist. I feel more prepared. She specializes in CBT. I have a concrete idea of what my goals are. I’m hoping this therapist will stick.