So I'm looking for a therapist. I am! I KNOW. Hello, FUTURE EMPLOYER!
I called a bunch, talked to a few. A therapist friend recommended a guy who does shamanic work along with therapy--how cool is that? But, his voice was a little drippy and anyway none of these people take my EXTREMELY COMMON health insurance, and I am in post-job-quitting personal poverty, so bah! One lady--how cool she sounded. Sharp, edgy. A little sparkly, maybe. Like she would challenge me. And her practice is right next door to my office. I was in therapy lurve. But bah! No insurance.
So I, being very smart, take the alternate route of looking in my health insurance provider directory to see who DOES take my insurance, and start calling away. One lady, she seems cool enough. The location works. She assures me that she adores working on MY KIND OF ISSUES--overprivilege-induced restlessness--and directs me to her website, to the FORMS. Imagine my delight when I see a SIX PAGE questionnaire! About me! Asking about what I like most about myself--about my birth order--about what is going on with me, right now. Again, therapy lurve came knocking. I am pretty sure I've found The One. I can hardly wait until our first meeting.
I lovingly fill out my FORMS. We MEET. She reads through the forms. Hmmm, she's all. Mmm hmmm. She asks me a few questions. I answer. She writes feverishly. I'm distracted by her feverish writing. I make jokes because I'm distracted. She says something about how she knows it was a lot of work to do the forms, she appreciates it.
I'm all, ha ha, do I get an A?
And she's all, not in the least ha ha, do you NEED an A?
And I'm all, SERIOUSLY? Did you really just SAY that? (Except I was all that just in my head)
Then at the end, she's all, we're out of time. Do you have any questions? Mmm hmm? And I'm all, what do you THINK? Of all the crap I just told you for the last hour of my life?
And she goes into some THING about how maybe I am looking OUTSIDE myself, you know, instead of IN HERE between my BOOBIES, for satisfaction. Yes, yes, probably right about that. I did ask her what she thought, after all.
But then she's all, you know, like getting a PhD. And I'm all (again, in my head) whoa there, skipper! I thought I got the damn thing to get a better job! To make more money for less work! To move to the Northwest! To learn about *(&^ genetics so I could help people with *(&^ cancer? I was mistaken, it seems. I was FALSELY SEEKING SATISFACTION.
So, bah. She was professional, and writes an awesome questionnaire, but it was not a good FIT. And now I'm just going to shut up, because the more I say now the more loony I look. I'm just going to shut up and look between my boobies for some peace.
Next up is a guy who seems great, of course. Don't we all before we get to know each other? He brings his yappy dog to sessions to dialogue with clients. I have yet to dialogue with a dog of any sort, and I didn't with his in our introductory meeting, in fact it rather IGNORED me. (What does that meeeeean?) But it was cute at least, it didn't have an underbite like some of those little dogs do. If I was back on the east coast I could call my stoner therapist and that would be that--who also let his dog ignore me in all our sessions, mmm hmmmm. But noooooooooo, I had to go chasing peace to Seattle.
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10 comments:
Ugh! Finding a shrink is such a hassle. I remember having to call the therapists on my insurance's list from my cubicle at work with everyone overhearing whether they wanted to or not. (Fortunately, this same group was subjected to one guy's calls about his daughter's DUIs and other issues, so at least I wasn't the bigger office weirdo.)
I'm happy for you that you're approaching this as a consumer. When I started therapy, I was such a mess that I just needed someone to listen and it wasn't until after years of treatment that I realized that I should've switched to someone who was going to help me come up with concrete ways to fix things.
And when I suggested spreading the visits out to put off using up the number of visits my insurance would pay for, she would say that some of her patients don't have insurance coverage for therapy at all, so I should feel lucky.
Sigh.
I've been around the therapy block, and I've only ever had one really good therapist (which is the one I have now, thankfully). And I work in an outpatient mental health practice and know that I wouldn't pay to see many of the people we have working here. (People get into this profession for a reason, yo.)
That said, don't give up. There is someone out there who will be a good fit for you. You know, if the looking between your boobies doesn't work out.
the question I suggest my friends and bloggy compadres ask is, "what is your primary therapy emphasis?" and then wait to hear "cognitive behavioral" or some form of one of those two words. not, "eclectic" or "I use whatever the patient needs at the time." And I have heard that last one.
But this is me, my training, my preference. I don't like a lot of mumbo-jumbo interpretations thrown at me. I was trained (for a time) by a jungian. it was all I could do to not run screaming from the room. One day I will recover from the trauma sufficiently well enough to blog about it.
And... who among us, who gets their PhD, doesn't "need" an A? If you don't have an A on your transcript, you ain't gonna get into no PhD program.
argh.
Never had a therapist...but probably need one!!!!
I've had psychiatrists and psychologists, bu the best therapist is the one I have now. She's a Social Psychiatric Nurse and does a fantastic job helping me with life's practical problems and my emotions as well.
I love that you diagnosed yourself with overprivileged-induced restlessness. I hope you kept a copy of the questionnaire--maybe you can save yourself some time with the next prospect.
Hows the look between your boobies technique working out for you?
I would have totally needed an A too. And I would have dug the 6 page form. But I don't have a phd, so there we part ;)
At least you're thorough in your search. I meet one person and I'm like, "Okay, I'll tell you my life story and pay you gobs of money!" And that's it.
Shrink shopping is never good, but then again I don't enjoy shopping in general so my questionnaire would show I am broken in this manner anyway.
Because I am firstborn.
Because I need As.
Who knows?
But I hope you find just the right fit because when you do - like jeans - it's so worth it.
I used to ask my therapist in Luxembourg for "homework" - as in what can I do to make this over as soon as humanly possible. The idea of a questionnaire got my heart racing there!
And of course you need an A. Who wouldn't? Oh yeah, slackers who don't need a therapist.
Loved this post!
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