Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Waste of Time (Part 2)

My new Counselor, Ana, asked me in my first session: "So, how would you like our sessions to be structured? And what do you aim to get out of these counseling sessions?"

"I want to understand the root of my depression so that I can be happy..." (why is she asking me silly questions?)

I explained to her that with Dana I would sit and talk thru a specific topic and she would listen to me as she noted some of the things that I said. She would often ask me why I felt a specific emotion, or why I reacted to a certain situation, and she would always help me to help myself. That was how things were with Dana, and that was how I wanted my sessions with Ana to be. After my third session with Ana I noticed something different. She was *telling* me how to help myself, not encourage me to find the answers thru my own thought processes, or to work thru my own feelings at my own pace.

"You react to stressful situations because you cannot separate the emotion and the rationale. You are driven by your emotions. I can help you with this, there is a wonderful tool, and it works. It's basically taking an inventory of all the situations and things people say that upset you, and write down the emotion associated with it, followed by how you should rationalise these feelings so that you do not react."

Hang on. I've heard this tune before... it's one of those "Shrink Tools". She might as well give me a meditation tape to help me sleep, or a self hypnosis video to stop me from "binge'n'purge". But I made so much progress with Dana; I am determined to continue with my treatment, even tho' it sounds like a load of crap. I have to give it a try, at least. Otherwise I will spend the next 15 years on anti-depressants, laxatives, sleeping pills, and the works. I will be lonely again in my shell -- protected from the outside world, but with no doors to let anyone into my life.

Yesterday I started on my little assignment that Ana gave me. In one column I wrote down situations/things people say that piss me off, or upset me, in another I would write down the emotion I felt, and finally the column for how to "rationalise" this feeling. I started off writing in the first two columns, but when I came to the final one, my mind went blank. I could not find a way to rationalise how I felt or reacted. I was stuck.

Instead of spending hours and hours trying to rationalise my first emotion, I just continued to write down the external factor (stuff that piss me off), followed by my internal factors (how I react to a negative factor). This exercise continued for nearly 6 pages, by which time I was in floods of tears. Why? All I am doing is writing down all the shite that piss me off, all the unhappy memories, all the pain from the past with absolutely no answers to them. This exercise is nothing more than opening old wounds that have started to heal; there is no puss in these wounds, there are no lost shrapnel, or splinters here that need to be removed. They just need to be left alone. And the tears? The tears are from the painful memories that are attached to my deepest emotions. Why do I have to relive these painful memories? Why do I have to go thru all of the pain again? I feel like a rape victim who is explaining in detail how she was assaulted in front of strangers in her court case. And to make me feel even more shite is the fact that I cannot fill in the last column.

The rationalisation.

All I see is 6 pages worth of pain. Six pages worth of anger and despair that I feel towards myself for not being equipped to complete a simple task like separating my emotion from my mind. I have always been a fairly rational person; I'm very cool headed and detached in stressful situations. I can usually control my emotions to deliver my message across to people in a non-confrontational manner, but yet, I have a woman telling me that I am ill equipped in this area, and the proof that she may be right is sitting right in front of me.

Six pages worth of a blank column that I cannot fill... six pages of tear stained, emptiness that has eaten away at my heart for nearly half my life. Maybe that's why I am driven to be a drunken wench, who just rambles on about everything, and nothing, for this is the only tool that I have to be able to cope with the world that surrounds me.

(to be continued...)

Nah, you know what? Fuck that, I need a drink.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

6 pages, that is a lot of stuff to be pissed off about. Personally, I could probably only come up with a couple stupid things right off the bat like people who smoke while walking in front of you. Sure, I've been through a lot of crappy times, same as everybody else, but once it's over, I never dwell on it. Just try to find/achieve the next good thing in life.

I think it's silly to dredge up all your unhappy memories. Doing that will depress anybody. I'm no psychologist but here's how I would start rationalising: by not making such a stupid list and focusing on a brighter future!

Drunken Wench Rambler said...

6 pages is just the tip of the iceberg... and for some reason I end up dwelling on things coz I remember sooooo much in clear detail. It just does not leave my head! As for your opinion on making stupid lists like this? I totally agree... waste of time as the title suggests. Total waste of time.

Tomorrow I have my next appointment with Ana. I will explain to her that this entire task that she gave me last week was indeed one of the stress factors that triggered off my Shingles.

We'll see how she reacts to that one!

Hehe.

Kat said...

I used to go to a shrink. It was wonderful. She's like Dana. The way you describe Dana. She let me use my own thought processes. She didn't tell me what to do. She would sometimes suggest but never demand.

Drunken Wench Rambler said...

Yeah, Dana was a really good counselor for me. Ana got the message when I told her that this whole "inventory" thing was extemely stressful.

Her answer?

Oh, it's that "perfectionism" working again.

Riiiiiggggghhhht.

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