Next steps.

Time to look at the compass and consult the map.

I've asked my formidably impressive boss to write a reference so that I can apply to university - because I need to get into research. 

My feeling is that no one is going to listen to me until I spend enough money gain more qualifications. Probably because of how rubbished I felt by the therapist. I remember saying this as I left his room the last time. The man had made out that his two years of studying the theory of therapy (only two years!) was somehow better than the five years I and my 'sisters' took. We had literally completed years more practice sessions, feedback, and case studies than him. 

Despite my 'lack of education' I can categorically say that therapy isn't supposed to leave a client-student feeling that they wont be qualified 'enough' after completing and passing a BACP approved course. My insecurity is a part of the pathology left over from my sessions with him. And I obviously believe him. I obviously don't think that anyone will listen to me because I'm only a counsellor not a psychotherapist! But on the other hand, more education (more friction!) will be good for me. And as I have already said before, I default to using a 'try harder' driver. But the feeling of not good enough isn't from this sensible appraisal, it really is a left over from 'therapy'.

But I'm in a bit of a quandary. I began my training with a very specific end in mind - to improve the treatment of families/carers/friends/partners by mental health services - because in my experience, the people who care about 'service user' are side-lined (at best) and at worst, treated as part of the problem. The experience we were put through by the mental health services when my son was ill, contributed to his suicide attempt and the shattering of our family. I don't think that the theories the mental health teams use to support their 'culture' are anything more than empty rituals, and they would be too easy to decipher. 

But, no one will listen to me until I have the research to prove the value of my proposed alternative...

So yes, that is a challenge - but the quandary is because bad therapy almost killed me! And this is for me, more interesting; the phenomenon of therapists blaming their clients for 'erotic transfer', moralizing and retraumatizing without recognising it. Because, as with the mental health services - causing others to suffer accidently is one thing. Causing others to suffer, through ignorance is another, but seeing that your words cause suffering and doing nothing - is abuse if done consciously, neglect if done without awareness. I'm also thinking of the clients who have been told that they have a border-line personality because they have complained. Or like me, get accused of harassment because they complain again when their complaint is ignored. As I've previously said, there are many ways a therapist can make it sound as if you are responsible for your distress, or not in your right mind. This a is demeaning and unworthy treatment of others...

Anyway! 

This is where I am.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Behind the mirror.

Image
A Bell Sings In Your Head by The Shining Tongues Almost the Solstice . Imagine the force of the sun, like a bow wave of life drawn deeper into the earth. The sun, so weak, now unable to rise high enough to give us a day. Yet this descent rejuvenates the earth and in return some force from the earth empowers the sun. Imbolc is the first real sign in the quality of light that darkness is receding - a cold and righteous sea, hissing like a nest of snakes, pulled by the moon to the outer shore. Soon the light will return and the days frosted in silver gain a cold clarity.  But for now, there is a mixing, a cross-pollinating, it is the solstice. Winter Solstice memories include knowing without a shadow of a doubt that my husband had begun 'sleeping' with her. So called 'flashbulb' memories; his body language, the taste of treachery. The feeling as of a blade entering my heart, and, how each time I asked for truth I was lied to.  Still bleeding psychically from this wound, ...
Read more

The 'something'.

The something took place on Wednesday. I drove to the most godawful town I've ever had the misfortune to visit. And it was obvious that no one should stop there. Zero street parking. A car park with no visible entrance was my first problem, almost as if you had to be someone who knows the secret door, no strangers allowed. I mean, Innsmouth . I should have taken the bus to get the full effect! With minutes to spare before the dreaded s omething , I found a parking bay and fed the machine some coins.  No way to pay by card.  The air was so cold, I was seeing snow.  I never, ever want to be there ever again as long as I live! I've seen this in others, the people sent to see me who take counselling as the final insult. My heart breaks for them. And now I know exactly how they feel. And the godawful town, made me think of a colleague whose misfortune it was to work here, how she was offered all sorts of interesting opportunities when she accepted the job. But the job tu...
Read more

Intermission.

Image
I'm still ill. Almost phoned for an ambulance yesterday. That bad, difficulty breathing in. But, got through. So, here I am. Morning routine. Three rounds of Wim Hof , following a brief panic about the wording of my insurance. Realised again that interviewed under caution isn't the same as being under caution. But I need this in writing. Verbal wasn't enough to stick in my cautious mind. So, Wim Hof, then good coffee - which I can't taste due to my COVID like, non COVID. Sitting outside, soaking up the blue of the sky, the good green around me. Listening to: Lemanis by Spaceslug Next comes the cold shower of course. Breakfast... Then I'm as done as I can be.  And today? All clients cancelled because I can't talk, only cough. Many thoughts. What to do with today, how to navigate a safe encounter with the hurt and rage that bubbles under fear and compassion. I heard someone talking to Huberman about idiot compassion ...my understanding came from Trungpa ...
Read more