Rules for Surviving Therapy

[David Baxter PhD]

Rules for Surviving Therapy
by Therese J. Borchard, Beyond Blue
Friday April 23, 2010

Have I ever said how much I wish I didn't need therapy? I look forward to my annual pap more the therapy. Not because I don't like my therapist - actually, I think she's brilliant. But because it is so gut wrenchingly difficult to give words to some of your feelings and thought you wish you didn't have.

That's why I loved the pointers for surviving therapy that author Sue Atkinson offers in her insightful book Climbing Out of Depression:

Going into therapy is not an easy option. Some think it should be on the life events list for high stress. If it were, it would be pretty near the top! There is no doubt that therapy is though, but if we an survive, it could be the most helpful thing that we could ever do to escape depression. (No promises, of course).
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Here are my rules for survival.
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1. It takes enormous courage, so tell the therapist if you are terrified.
2. Expect it to get very much worse before it gets better.
3. Even if after ten agonizing sessions you still think that the therapist hates your guts, it may be worth going on, but tell him or her.
4. If the therapist is clearly an insensitive idiot [I've had a few of those], get out quickly.
5. If the therapist tries to make connections between things that have been said, trying to get at what is underneath the words, and these connections make absolutely no sense whatsoever to you, it's important to say so. If the therapist's reaction is then to search further, or try another approach, that's a good sign. If, on the other hand, the explanations sound like irrelevant garbage and you say so and you get put in your place and made to feel small, that may be a signal that the therapist needs therapy as much as you do! Rapid retreat could be called for if this persists, but it is crucial to explore it first with the therapist; it could well be a key issue.
6. Don't just give up. Explore all problems thoroughly.
7. It might be that, if things go badly, we have unrealistic expectations. Explore this with the therapist.
8. If most of what is said is jargon, it is a good idea to say so. If the response is a real attempt at communication, go on. But if it is one that makes everything all your fault and "shows clearly that blah blah blah gobbledygook gobbledygook, don't you think so, Sue?" I don't know what to suggest. I never really figured that one out.
9. All therapy is painful. It's not a good idea to give it up for that reason. However, it can be a good thing to stop if life gets so overwhelming that your survival is in doubt. There is a right time for things. We need to be ready to face things. There are also some therapeutic approaches that may not be right for you at that time. It's okay to say you can't cope with it right now.

 

[Ryan Howes]

That's a good article, David. Thank you for posting it.

I've been thinking lately about Sue's second point: "Expect it to get very much worse before it gets better." It's something I've known for quite a while, and I frequently say this to clients in the first session. I want them to know that beyond the initial relief of making the introduction and sharing their symptoms and not being rejected, there are some hard times ahead. But why is this? Is it necessary?

I've thought of an analogy. I think many times therapy is like cleaning out a hallway closet. Or an attic. Or the basement, take your pick. We know we've stuffed away many things, cramming them inside and slamming the door shut, trying to forget about it. Entering therapy is like making a decision to tackle this closet once and for all. We open the door and start pulling out boxes and boxes and loose items and more boxes. It seems like an impossible amount of material coming from this space, and now it's cluttering up the living room! A few sessions into therapy can feel much worse because we've pulled material out of this closet that we forgot we ever had, and now it's sitting there unresolved in the middle of our living room, along with a dozen other boxes. The closet is empty, but our living space has become a mess. Unfortunately, this is when many people get overwhelmed and decide to stop therapy.

Those who stick around are treated to the long, tedious process of exploring each of those boxes. They examine them and decide what to keep, what to use every day, what to recycle, what to gift and what to throw away. They re-pack the box and put it back in the closet in an organized way. And they do this over and over until the living room becomes less cluttered and the closet is manageable. Not only organized, but a less frightening, less overwhelming place to visit.

Successful therapy helps people face and deal with issues that have been stuffed away. Doing so is often an uncomfortable, time-consuming process. But as far as I can tell, there isn't any other way to handle a cluttered closet. Nor any more rewarding way.

 

[forgetmenot]

Thank you for this analogy it really depicts well how therapy goes and how so many times i wanted to choose to just pack up all the mess and put in back in the closet.
Perhaps it would have been easier just to take one box out at a time to explore but for some reason when one box is open the rest seemed to fall out afterwards.
Why is that: I guess it is like Pan Dora's box once the lid is off it is off with out my control of what comes out.
I have been going to therapy abt i think 2 yrs now and again i think it is time to just stop exploring what is inside and quickly get the house in order.
I hate seeing a mess as does anyone else.
How long do you think one should look at the mess around them without just saying finally enough already other put it away or throw it out all together.
Thanks for such a thoughtful post it has got my mind thinking again