Do you see a shrink and if so, what for?

Both me and my friends have had bad experiences with them when we were younger. I've come to the conclusion that anyone paid to care about you, does not care about you.

 

I am currently seeing one for my depression and anxiety. She is really nice, and it really helps.

 

i see her every other week for stress, coping and anger management

 

Once a week for anxiety, coping mechanisms/addiction, and some stuff from my past.
I've had five different therapists/psychologists when I was 14-16, and God!, did I hate them! I swore I would never see one again in my life.., but recently I was basically forced to see one again, because otherwise my doctor wouldn't give me my medication.

And I totally agree they don't care, they just make things worse, in my experience. That's why I refuse to cooperate, and most of the time just say I'm fine even when I'm not. I just don't see the point of a complete stranger fishing for the most personal details about my life and feelings..

 

I've seen the same one on and off really for a few years. It really helped me come to terms with being gay/coming out and then my own depression and anxiety.

Like someone else said, you have to open up for it to work.

 

No psychologist, but I go to a psychiatrist for ADHD meds called vyvanse.

I used to see one back when I was in High School. My parents had put me in a "Christian Boys Home," and we were required to see one a couple times a week. Probably to try and undo the damage they were doing to us lol.

 

My experience has been a mixed bag.

The first time I really saw a therapist was when I was seventeen. I was in a deep depression, had just been prescribed medication, and had lied about my suicide attempt and continued suicidal thoughts. He was the first person I ever came out to face to face. At first things seemed to go well, but he had pretty much zero understanding of gay issues. It became apparent right from the get go that being gay was at the core of the problems I was having.

His solution was for me to "make sure" I was gay. He wanted me to go have sex with a male prostitute to find out. I never had the courage to tell him that I had already lost my virginity, and had been having frequent sex (with the same guy I lost it with) right up until about a year before I met him.

After about ten visits and basically dodging the whole "make sure with a prostitute" issue, he dumped me. He claimed that if I wasn't going to take his advice that he couldn't help me, and then basically told me not to bother scheduling a new appointment.

Having a therapist break up with you is pretty much one of the most humiliating (and shaming) experiences that you can have. I went off the medication after I stopped seeing him and pretty much gave up.

I tried again when I was around 22 years old. I was still dealing with all the same issues, though the depression and suicidal thoughts had mostly ebbed away. The anxiety remained however. I saw her and a psychologist who prescribed me new medication. Their solution was pretty much to drug the hell out of me, and try and work through the issues.

I never came out to either of them, mostly because of the really bad experience I had with the first one. I basically ignored everything to do with being gay, and learned how to "manage" my anxiety. I saw them both for about nine months. I noticed some "improvements" but hated the various side effects of the medication. I was also really pushing my comfort zone with her, and knew I'd have to come out eventually.

This led me to pretty much quitting the meds and chickening out of seeing either of them again. She called several times wondering if I was alright, but I never bothered to return the calls. I feel kinda bad about that.

I used what I learned to "manage" my anxiety to basically suppress it and everything else. I tried to move on with my life and forget my problems. However, things just got worse and worse. Problems that I always had became magnified, and basically I thought I was showing symptoms of adult ADD. It was getting to the point that it was significantly hindering me.

Still, for several years I ignored it and pushed forward. Then December last year, after having turned 29, I began to have a sort of midlife crisis. My life isn't / wasn't where it was supposed to be. It was like I was weighed down. I blamed it on adult ADD, and made a promise to seek help.

My goal was basically go to the doctor, grab some pills to get a handle on the ADD and push forward as I was doing. However, the doctor said I needed to see a therapist first and get diagnosed.

It took me weeks before I could actually work up the courage to schedule the appointment. I basically told myself that I was going to go in, get my diagnosis and then move along.

Things didn't work out that way. Pretty much from the first visit he told me that I was likely suffering from extreme anxiety, and it can cause many of the same symptoms and problems as adult ADD. So he wanted to treat me for my anxiety before he even discussed the potential of me having adult ADD.

To say that I was unhappy with this would be an understatement. In my mind, that whole chapter of my life was behind me. I had moved on. Did I experience some social anxiety? Yes, obviously, but I blamed it on shyness and other stuff. I had all sorts of excuses.

He was nice though, and seemed to know what he was talking about. So I stuck around. Most of my first visits were filled with trivial matters; things that were important to me, but not really. Like I spent several sessions discussing my anxiety over trying a new hairstyle. I really wanted a new one, but was really worried that I wouldn't like it.

Eventually, I came out to him. It was no where near as hard as the first therapist, but it was still difficult for me. Over the years I had come to accept that I was gay, and stop trying to change myself. I simply put on a mask for everyone who knew me, and was basically a sexless creature as far as they knew.

It's been seven months since I started seeing him, and my life is different in good ways and bad. It's good in that I'm actually confronting my problems now instead of burying them, and it's bad because I'm basically digging up stuff that I buried a long time ago but never resolved.

I'm learning a lot about myself, and not all good things. I'm getting to see myself for who I really am; when before I felt as if I lived a fake life. The person I wanted to be and believed I was on the inside (the perfect me), and the person who I really am (a flawed individual that is no where near perfect).

I'm growing a lot - emotionally and mentally. But it is also painful. Although I've fought back tears many times, my last visit was the first time I cried in the whole seven months that I've been going. It actually surprised him a bit, because based on some of the previous stuff I had talked to him about it was rather trivial in comparison. He actually spent an extra thirty minutes with me over my regular time, even though it really wasn't that important.

I can't even remember the last time someone outside of my immediate family has seen me cry. It's probably going on ten or fifteen years. Normally, doing something like that would be a horrifying and shaming experience. Yet, in that moment it felt right. I didn't feel ashamed as I was doing it, and I didn't feel ashamed afterward.

For me, showing any emotion outside of happiness, anger / frustration, and affection is pretty much a breakthrough. Even anger and frustration doesn't get displayed openly that often; that's normally suppressed as well until it boils over.

Slowly; very slowly, I'm changing for the better. I have a lot of work to do and a long way to go, but I've found a therapist who knows what he is doing, genuinely cares, and is helping me.

And so far; not one suggestion from him for me to go on any medication. Which is something I really like, despite my original intentions.

I would recommend therapy to anyone. I know everyone can benefit from it, as we all have issues that we need to solve in our lives. None of us are perfect, and there are always areas to improve ourselves.

The key, I think, using my own experiences as any indication, is to find a therapist who works well with you and who understands you.

 

Yeah, I see a psychologist for depression/anxiety. I see him through an organisation called Headspace, which has both psychologists and medical doctors, so my records are shared between one of the psychologists and one of the doctors so the doctor can prescribe my medication while also knowing what's going on and what the psychologist thinks.

 

Wow, Aldrick. I was reading through your post and it reminded me a lot of myself at times. It's great that you found a therapist that you feel comfortable with and that seems to be helping you. I'm glad for you

Personally, I hate that part where they make me dig up stuff that I've burried for so long. I mean, they make me think about stuff that I've worked sooooo hard on trying to suppress and forget.
I feel like I can handle things pretty well by myself. It's not perfect, but I manage. And then they mess it all up by making me do the exact opposite of what I want; they make me think about my problems, while I just wanna forget and never think about it again. I know it's about confronting your problems, but that doesn't work if you're not into it, and if the outcome is worse than what you feel now.
I'm not much of a feelings-person anyway.

It's really great that you found a way to do that, though. I hope it'll continue to help you.

Well, to me there are two important differences..

One, it's so much easier to talk about your problems and feelings on the computer than it is in reallife..
And two, here you can be really selective and careful about what you say, because you can think about what you type. But face to face with a psychologist/psychiatrist, you don't have that time to think about what you say, and then if you drop something that you immediately regret, they'll keep bringing that up...

Oh and also, shrinks get paid to care. I know some probably really do care, but still they get paid for it. When they go home, they go to their families and forget all about your problems. Then the next morning it's time for work and they pick up your files again. In the end that's all it is, it's their work.
EC advisors are volunteers! It's amazing how much time you guys put into this place and it's because you genuinely do care.

You should move here lol, you won't believe the things our health insurance covers.

 

Well, there's the issue of anonymity through the Internet that justinf already mentioned, but what I was gonna throw in was about rapport. Coming on EC and talking with you guys, even though you're all technically strangers, is almost like talking with a group of friends. At the very least, it's a group of people I feel like I can trust. I'm pretty sure I didn't post anything on EC for a good while until I settled in... gave me a chance to get a feel for the place and make myself comfortable. The issue lies in the fact that a lot of people are being "told" to go to therapy, and I think being forced (relatively) into a situation where you need to be completely honest with some stranger for your supposed well being (when you don't necessarily believe it at that point) is not particularly effective.

It's kinda the same thing with friends: I know you shouldn't be turning your friends into your own personal means of therapy, but I'm much more inclined to be honest with them, even if they can't really help me, than I am with some stranger (in person) who can probably give me the best advice I could hear. And getting advice is only as helpful as how honest you're being, like you said. In that sense, I think EC brings a nice balance; sure, most(?) of us aren't professional, licensed therapists/psychologists/whatever, but we can actually give appropriate advice because we actually get to hear what's going on and the person will actually receive what's being suggested. Plus, I think there's some benefit in hearing advice from someone "on your level" (err, a peer) rather than in a therapy session, where I think there's a perceived difference in power (that actually goes both ways, now that I think about it).

So, that's probably why a lot of people can't be bothered to look around for a good therapist. They either didn't want to be there in the first place, or if they did, talking to strangers about your problems is pretty terrifying. Otherwise, I agree wholeheartedly, a therapist can be an amazing thing. I just think the system in itself is flawed... but there isn't much of a way to get around it unless the person truly wants the help.

All that said, I've been to a counsellor a couple times when I was say... 13 or so, for my dad's alcoholism. She seemed really nice and probably would've been good, but I wasn't in any place to talk about my problems. Probably didn't help that at that age, I didn't think it was a problem to begin with.

 

^ totally agree

 

That's actually not what it's like for me at all.

It's kinda hard to describe what it is like, except to say that it can be summed up with a phrase that he used last visit, "You're the boss." I control pretty much everything about the therapy. I determine what we talk about, what we do, everything. If I go in and want to talk about the weather, then that's what we'll talk about. If I go in and want to dig into something deep and personal, then that's what we'll do. There is no pressure or judgment.

I have a hard time accepting that fact, since I'm a horrific perfectionist, and I'm constantly measuring and judging myself.

His role with me is more of a counselor and advisor. He draws upon his experiences, knowledge, and training to give me the tools I need to solve the problems that I face.

Unlike my previous therapists, he actually spends quite a bit of time talking about himself. That may sound strange, but it actually works. When I share something about myself, he shares something about himself - his experiences. I know things about his childhood, his extended family (in particular his brothers and sisters), his wife, the things he did before he became a therapist, etc.

He's not looking for advice from me or anything like that, it's sharing in the context of, "I understand what you're talking about, a few years ago my wife..." And that, for me at least, makes it comfortable for me to continue sharing with him.

He also suffered from really bad anxiety, and so he draws upon his experiences there and talks about what worked for him and what he learned. It really helps to talk to someone who can relate.

I used to think the same way you did, though. You're nineteen so you really haven't had the type of experiences that I've had yet. It was the prospect of me turning thirty this year (at the end of this month in fact), that freaked me the hell out. I panicked. I was terrified of looking back at my life at age forty, and realizing that I had all the same problems that I've had since I was in my twenties. I made a pledge to myself to not allow that to happen.

It's hard and difficult to look at everyone you grew up with; both people you disliked and liked, and see that they've really moved on with their lives. You get to see them with their families, their children. It's like watching the world pass you by - everyone continues to grow and change, and you - you stay the same.

If I'm bluntly honest with myself, although things about my life have changed, and I look a bit older... emotionally, developmentally... I'm still nineteen. I shut everything down. I put my attention and focus on other people and other things in my life.

It's like I gained the wisdom that comes as you age, but didn't gain anything else that would normally come with it.

It terrifies me, more than I can put into words, that one day I'm going to wake up and I'm going to be old. I'm going to still be alone. I'm going to have a hundred different dreams and ambitions but never really strive toward them. I'm going to realize then, at that moment, that I've run out of time. It will be too late. I'm going to see promise after broken promise left unfulfilled. I'm going to look backward on my life, and I'm going to see nothing but regret. I'm going to see what could have been, but never was because I was too afraid to face my problems and the challenges that came with them.

It's that gnawing fear that pushes me.

It's easy to sit where you're sitting at nineteen and believe that you've got things under control. It feels like you have all the time in the world; that time is on your side. Then you sit where I sit; a decade down the road, and you suddenly realize that you don't.

When you're young, it's easy to feel invulnerable. It feels like your whole life is ahead of you. There is a sense of excitement. It feels like time is on your side. Then you get to my age, and you realize that time is really the only thing you can't make more of - you can make more friends, more money, you can even replace your family if necessary. But you can't make more time.

You sit down and look at your life, and you wonder, "Is this it? Is this what my life is going to look like?" And then you realize you're unsatisfied. That you had hoped for more, that you had wanted for more. Then that little voice in your head answers back to you, "This is all there is, this is your life, and it's running out."

When you hear that voice there are two responses. The first is to accept it passively. The second is to reject it and fight back. It's easy to take the first option, it requires nothing of you. All you have to do is keep doing what you're doing. The second option, though, that is scary. It requires you to go into the dark places where you've banished all your problems, and to do all the things you were afraid to do in the past.

You don't have to do it. No one is going to force you. But then there is that little voice in the back of your head that tells you, "Yes, this is it. This is all you're ever going to be. This is your life." And you know it's true, you know it's not lying to you, and that the only way to prove it wrong is to fight to change it.

So, that's what I'm doing - that's what I'm going through. My therapist doesn't have to push me, I'm pushing myself, because of that little voice and the fear of it being right.

 

I'm about to see my third one in august. I've been getting therapy for... four or three years, something like that. I think it has been really beneficial for me, though my brother would argue otherwise. He didn't really have an open mind when he saw his therapist. I love it, though I am prone to high anxiety close to the point of panic attacks before my first few meetings.

 

I do and I love mine!

 

Yes. Aspergers syndrome, anxiety, severe arrested development and confidence issues, but i haven't seen him in months. I should be there right now. I'm posting this in the hope i remember to make a booking soon

 

For a variety of reasons (one of which should be relatively easy to guess), I did see a social worker for a while early last year on my own volition, but my parents told me to quit going because I had nothing to see a shrink about other than academic stress. Of course, since I didn't want to tell them about my struggles with questioning my sexual orientation, I acquiesced and reluctantly stopped seeing her. She was incredibly kind (and a lesbian, so she could relate to my experiences) and even got my parents' insurance company--as I was still covered by their plan--to cover the costs of each session.

Friends really are a good way to get stuff off our chests and get some feedback. I've spilled my guts to my friends in a way that I would NEVER even consider when my parents are involved, and they have been nothing if not receptive and understanding, so I got lucky in that respect. I look forward to the times I get to hang out with them, because speaking about my thoughts is the greatest stress-reducer there is for me. I also feel that I'm able to be more honest with them.

 

I saw a counselor at my school last semester first because I was questioning my orientation and then because of all the other stuff that happened over the course of the semester.

I will be seeing one again in the fall. In addition to lingering problems from last semester (stupid crush, and associated depression, refuses to go away), I also have some family issues that I don't even know how to begin addressing.