Quick thoughts on therapy:
My current counsellor has proposed two routes for me to take with regard to fighting the blues. One is Exploratory Psychotherapy (think Freud & Jung but with less sex) and the second is Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (think value-oriented mindful action).
The first I apporach with the basic fear of being caught in a blame game and never-ending sessions of attempting to root out a subconscious desire that can’t be proven one way or another. Add to that the basic weirdness of such ‘intimacy’ with a stranger and the horror of opening the broiling wounds of my psyche and the underlying fears and pain that I have spent years learning how to control and it seems a ridiculously frightening and uncomfortable prospect.
On the other hand perhaps some dark recesses would be less shadowy if I faced them, perhaps there is something lurking that a stranger is perfectly positioned to uncover and I would be able to fight my own demons more effectively and just don’t know it yet. Perhaps I secretly yearn to express myself…
The second option has the obvious advantage of a slightly buddhist feel with a smidgen of humanist philosophy and some dialetical language theory thrown in for good measure. I enjoyed mindfulness even if I never had the self discipline to follow through the practice and since ACT can also be used to help manage chronic pain it seems an obvious choice.
What if, however, I am merely throwing another coat of paint over the rust? What if I can’t muster the motivation? What if I don’t put the effort in because I am too comfortable being “ill” even though I’m actually just a malingerer? What if there just isn’t a therapist inside 30 miles?
A huge part of me just wants someone to tell me what to do; to say this is the right thing in your life and you can make it work; to tell me that I’m ok.
Trouble is it doesn’t matter if they do cos I don’t know how to believe them.