End of a decade

Due to multiple reasons, I finally ended with my therapist of eleven years.  The past year has been nothing but arguments and miscommunication. Basically she has not been getting me at all and after all this time you would think that a psychologist would know my behaviors and thinking process. Hell, my psychiatrist picks up on things more than she does, even via email!

I recently has been asked to write a message to therapists. But how can I when my own therapy has failed. What really got me this time is that I asked her to attend a workshop to basically educate her on the task of assessment of suicide. It would be one thing to respectfully decline, but totally another to say that I am changing her “mode of practice” just by taking one workshop. She calls me a suicidologists and I understand that it not her interest. I am not asking her to become one, but I thought by attending this workshop she might gain some insight and with this insight, better help me when I get into a suicidal crisis. Man did this blow up in my face big time.  I’m still wondering how informing my therapist about what is out there changes her training and how she does her therapy. What I can see is, she hasn’t done much analyzing. She has been more of a supportive friend than a therapist. Maybe we have grown too close and that is the problem. I don’t know. All I do know is that I have lost faith in therapy, a treatment that is supposedly supposed to help you and yet all it seems to do is hurt more than it helps. I was supposed to go inpatient, but I cannot face another mental health professional. I only saw my psychiatrist yesterday because for the 1^st time in 19 yrs she called me more than 3 times and had been emailing back and forth more than once. I guess me telling her I don’t want help freaked her out a bit. I told her I stopped my meds. Fuck everything at this point, I am beyond caring. Even as I am writing this I am just crying my eyes out. Why, I don’t know. Maybe it is because I am just so damn pissed at being let down again.  I usually shed these kind of tears for that reason more than sadness.

In therapy, there is always a give and a take. You bare your soul to a stranger and take away something from it. I’d like to think that over the years with this Bozo, we both have done that. Just lately, it seems like maybe she felt I was trying to change her too much and if she can’t change, even a little, how the hell am I, the client, to??