The Lack of Wisdom of Psych Professionals

Friends have been seeing their shrinks and talking about how it went. It did not go all that well for them, which resonates with me, as it’s how I always feel. Doctors swear to first do no harm. Yet most of these doctors treating psych illness do more harm than good sometimes and I find it deeply offensive.

Also offensive to me is the party line: “Medication alone won’t help you, you need THERAPY too.”

Once upon a time, I believed in therapy above all else, especially the meds, since I had the wrong diagnosis thus wrong meds and it didn’t help at all. Of course, I had an amazing therapist at that time. My appointments with him were cathartic, even at my psychological worst. Because he didn’t condescend and psychobabble and pressure and make everything so much worse.

After he left, I had counselors who were nice but none who really helped. They were busy meeting their handy dandy DSM diagnostic bullshit which leaves no room for an individual. And when your therapist is not someone you trust or want to confide in, when in fact, you are in an altered mental state and view them as a threat (logic doesn’t apply to mental illness, you’d think the professionals would get that.)…

I really wish they pros would explain to me how to work with someone my brain is telling me is out to besmirch me and violate my confidentiality. “Get over it,it’s not the truth” simply isn’t good enough. They want me to cooperate and get this “:help” they say I need then I should think be humored to the extent of being counseled by someone who doesn;t feed my paranoid delusions.

Just had to vent that, I’ve been going crazy all day thinking about it. I may not believe in therapy but I was fine til they gave me a counselor I don’t trust and my brain started sending out the paranoid thought brigade. I’m ill, not unwilling to help myself. Though no amount of therapy will help,at all, if my brain chemicals cannot be medicinally swayed back to the sane side of the scale.

Today’s been ass trash. Just…Trazadone hangovers suck, tis why I so rarely take it. I spent two hours after putting my kid on the bus waiting for the phone to ring and then to tell me in my sleeping pill induced stupor I sent her out without pants on or some shit. When I started feeling more lucid, then my mood was just low and without motivation. Same shit,different day.

But I’ve been through this so much, so many times…I know if I can hold onto til the cold weather starts to lift, I should be able to spring back. Though all the paranoia and distorted thought has me concerned, those things were not facets of my illnesses prior to my daughter’s birth. I’d love to discuss it with my shrink but she only allots me six minutes on a TV screen and barely speaks English so not likely gonna get a chance for a heart to heart. Ass trash.

How is anyone with a mental illness supposed to get better when the shrinks allot five to ten mins for medication management, and the “holy grail of therapy” is generally fifty minutes once a month? This is how it has always been for me. They spend all this time telling me the plethora of disorders I have that need counseled and fixed but they see you once a month and are pretty much useless. I’m all for helping myself but If I am as screwed up as they say, then I’m gonna need more fucking help than once a month. Yet it doesn’t work that way if you;re poor.

So I am apparently stuck being a bucket of crazy.

I wish I’d never ever gotten involved with the counselor or psychiatric world 20 years ago.

I had way more self esteem when people just thought I was weird and quirky as opposed to batshit crazy.

Yeah,I know I make no sense, I can’t stay on topic, and I have the attention span of an ADHD meth using bunny.

I’;m quirky that way.


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