horney paper storms: counseling

Showing posts with label counseling. Show all posts

I'm getting there...

Just recently when I came across the little sign above, I immediately started crying.

It was one of those reactions I had to think about later because I didn't fully understand it while it was happening. I guess everybody has had something like that happen to them. It's like when you hear a song and immediately have some kind of strong feeling you don't understand at first.

A big part of my counseling has been about how my relationship with my dad has shaped who I am. During some of my sessions the counselor has gotten me to have some imaginary conversations with my dad and they're always heart-wrentching. I get to say some things I feel inside but have never said out loud, and maybe never will.

I think that sign got to me because I never felt my dad saw me as a strong person. As a kid I was always his "girly-boy son." Weak. A sissy.

I always yearned for his approval.

I always wanted him to see me for who I was.

I always wanted him to be proud of me.

I always wanted him to believe in me.

I always wanted him to see how strong I really was.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I'm now realizing I may never get those things from him. I feel really sad about that but I'm not going to let him, or anyone, define who I am.

Going back to that list of five things above, I'm beginning to get closer to this:

· I am responsible for approving who I am.

· I am responsible for seeing the real me.

· I am responsible for taking pride in myself.

· I am responsible for believing in me.

· I am gradually realizing how very strong I am inside, and I'm starting to like what I see.

Who Am I Becoming?

My counselor has this thing he does where he gets me to think about some of the ways I seem to be changing.

Since I've been in counseling I've gotten some new insights into why my life is the way it is, why I react the way I do to certain things, why I seem to have these really dark moods, and why my future seems different than it did a few months ago.

I told him last week I like some of the ways I'm changing. I don't get as panicky about new things, I seem to feel a little more confident about myself, I'm even starting to accept myself as being more femme that I originally wanted to be.

He asked me if there were some changes I didn't like. I had to really think about that one. What I came up with kind of surprised me. I told him even though I was changing in some good ways, it worried me that I had no clue where all these changes might be heading.

He asked why that concerned me.

"Well, what if I don't like what I find out about myself? What if I start changing into a horrible person?"

Know what his wise answer was?

"I think you have a hard time believing you're a worthwhile person."
I get these little glimpses every once in a while that maybe I am a worthwhile person. Maybe all these little insights I'm having are only leading to getting better acquainted with the person I already am but haven't fully discovered yet.

One of the things my counselor does to get me to think about how my past has helped shaped me, is to ask, "Brad, when was the first time you remember..."

Lately I've been spending too much time remembering the bad things. I'm not saying that's wrong. He pointed out that we remember the bad things because they often don't fit with how we think things should be, or want to be. The bad things throw us off balance, give us a shock, make us scared or angry or disapointed.

In my last session he pulled a fast one on me. Something I wasn't expecting. And even though it wasn't one of the "bad things" I just mentioned, it still threw me off balance.

We were talking about my self-esteem and my self-confidence and how both those things are a lot lower than I want. He asked me, "What are some of your first memories of good things that have happened to you that helped you feel better about yourself?"

Pretty simple question, huh? Usually when he asks me questions about something, I can come up with a quick answer without too much trouble. I didn't have a ready answer for him on this question.

I both hate and love these kind of questions. Questions I don't have a ready answer for.

I hate them because I think they makes me look stupid. Like I don't take life seriously. Like I'm not on top of things. I start thinking maybe he's asking a trick question that his other clients answer without any problem. And I'm only going to come out of this looking immature and stupid.

Then I also love these kind of questions because they makes me think about things I don't usually think about. Once I get over feeling stupid and immature, I can usually come up with something interesting. Something that sheds light on why I am the way I am. Something that points me in a good direction.

My counselor gave me this as a "homework" assignment: Try to remember at least 10 good things that have happened to me and write a little about those times. Even though he calls this "homework" (which is something you get graded on), I've been having some fun with this.

I'm suppose to picture myself in those situations and remember what was happening, what I was thinking, what I was feeling.

I'm bringing this assignment with me when I meet with him on Friday. Ten good things that have happened to me. I thought I'd share the first one with you:

I remember when my mom would read books to me when I was little. I don't know how old I was the very first time she started this, but I remember sitting in her lap or snuggled up next to her with this really big picture book and she would start telling me a story about what was happening.

I remember thinking she was very smart because she could come up with a story that always matched the pictures! I must have been really little because I honestly don't remember seeing the words she was reading.

There are probably many reasons why this memory has stayed with me. When I think about it now, I feel warm inside because those were times my mom would take me to another world filled with people I had never met before, but felt like I had known forever, or wanted to know forever.

And they were always doing fun and exciting things. Or they were in situations that were scary and unfamiliar and I could hear my mom tell me how they got to their happy ending.

This is one of the reasons I always felt safe with my mom. She was always there with me in these worlds she would take me to. I knew nothing bad would happen to me with her snuggling beside me. I also knew she would return me back to my familiar world all safe and sound.

I know my counselor is going to ask me how this memory has shaped me (I'm on to his methods and techniques by this time!).

I think I learned that I can go to unfamiliar places, sometimes happy ones and sometimes scary ones, and come out unscathed. But it's always better to have someone with you (either real or in your memory) in case you are scathed. Someone who can help you understand the story you're in when you get stuck or scared or unsure what to do. Someone you can trust.

I honestly don't know what I'd be like without this memory of my mom reading to me. I'm so glad I don't have to know that.

Flying Under the Radar

This past week was difficult for me. Or maybe I should say the whole month has been difficult.

I wonder if anybody is aware of the fact that relationships with the people you love can sometimes be complicated and downright hard. Can I see a showing of hands? Anybody ever had that thought before?

I've been trying to "fly under the radar" this month. Trying to keep out of everybody's way. Trying not to bring other people down. Trying to keep most of my bad feelings deep inside me.

My counselor tells me I'm paying a high price for doing that. Something about how all those bad feelings can start eating away inside and turn into depression.

So, I've been trying to let some of those feelings out. Easier said than done, at least for me it is.

Sometimes when I'm deep in thought or worried about something, I get really quiet around Matty or other people. When people start asking me if I'm okay, I know I'm not doing a good job of hiding, or flying under the radar. Matty, for one, has a radar system that's super sensitive.

Or I do the opposite and put on a happy face. This one works a little better than getting quiet and withdrawn, but it takes a lot more effort and I can't keep it up for as long.

My counselor (who also seems to have a super sensitive radar system) got really direct with me in a session right before Father's Day. He said I seemed to be dodging his questions about some of my "real feelings" when he asked what my plans were for that Sunday.

So since his radar spotted me, I couldn't pretend there was nothing there. He never let's me get away with anything. It was hard because I wasn't sure what I was feeling about some of it and then it got me a little nervous to admit I was feeling more sad than I realized. It's damn hard to look at all this stuff because some of it is the first time I've gone into this much detail. I think it's helping me be more honest with myself which is good but still not easy.

Then I had a session where I walked in his office, sat down, and didn't say anything at first. I just sat there and waited. And he just sat there and waited, too. I think his radar was getting some signals that something was in his air space and he was trying to study the instrument panel.

I was sitting there for about a minute or two, but it really felt like an hour. When I looked up at him, I started crying. He just moved the Kleenex over to me and waited some more.

When I finished crying, I just looked at him like he was suppose to tell me what just happened or to do something to fix me. I can't remember his exact words, but he said something like, "I'm sitting here thinking you wanted me to see how you feel inside. Do you want to talk about whatever it is?" Then all I could do is start crying again.

I worry sometimes that people might not like what they see and leave me. My counselor said maybe I could start by practicing with him more. Letting him see more of my feelings. I can always go back under the radar whenever I want. He said I'm the pilot and it's my plane.

Remember that sentence at the beginning of this post where I said, "...relationships with the people you love can sometimes be complicated and downright hard"? Mark that sentence down, underline it, put it in CAPITAL LETTERS, and make it all bold.

There's no doubt in my mind that I love my dad. There's no doubt in my mind that my dad loves me. Is it unconditional love? Nope. We both have strings attached.

My dad has always had reservations about me, going back as far as I can remember. I wrote about it once in that post about My Dad and His Girly-Boy Son. Everything in that post was true, except that I left out some details I didn't want to share at the time. Talking about your dad slapping you and shoving you against the wall and calling you horrible names when he's drunk is not a pretty picture.

I guess it's pretty natural that I would have some reservations about my dad. It's a relationship with some strings attached. Or maybe a better way of saying it, it's a relationship I approach with caution.

As Father's Day was getting closer, I started having these dreams where everybody was leaving me. Trying to get as far away from me as possible. Right before I woke up, I was standing in this field somewhere all by myself. It was like one of those "end of the world" stories where you're the only person left on earth.

Am I all alone in the world? Nope. Not by a long shot.

Do I worry that people might leave me, including those who love me? Yep. I worry about that. I even worry sometimes that Matty might leave me, even though that's not based on anything that's happened between us. I'm trying as hard as I can to make what I feel be more realistic instead of living in fear.

So my dad wanted to talk to me this weekend about my tuition. If you remember, he told me a little while back he had reservations about helping me out with going to culinary school after getting my college degree. He said it didn't seem the same to him as getting a master's degree, which he had already said he would help with.

Each day that got closer to this past Saturday was making me more and more anxious. I started flying under the radar again and not saying much about how I was feeling. I figured out that my anxiety was not because he might refuse to help with culinary school. I don't expect my dad to be my personal bank. If he didn't want to help pay for culinary school, I would plan to find other ways (all legal) to come up with the money.

What I figured out was that "...relationships with the people you love can sometimes be complicated and downright hard." Every feeling I ever had about my dad started bubbling up last week. The money issue was just what opened the floodgates. This was about our whole nineteen-and-a-half year relationship -- all the good... all the bad.

Matty never left my side all day Saturday. I could tell my dad was not entirely comfortable with him being there while we talked about tuition. I could also tell he knew Matty was not going anywhere.

Nothing is changing as far as him paying my college tuition (minus some scholarship money I have). He asked if I was still thinking about "cooking school" (his words). I looked him straight in the eyes and said, "I'm not thinking about anything. I'm going to culinary school."

He sorta nodded his head and I know him well enough that he was biting his tongue and not saying everything on his mind. I just kept staring at him. Matty leaned a little forward and put his hand over mine. After a pause he asked if I had any brochures or websites for culinary schools (notice how he's now using the correct term). I said I would email him the URLs.

We'll see what happens next. I'm not talking here so much about whether he's going to help out with culinary school. What I mean is, we'll see what happens next in our relationship. This is not about the money. This is about our relationship. We'll see what happens next.

I'm still flying some under the radar. But I'm trying to be more aware of my feelings and fears, where they come from, what they mean. And talking about all that with my counselor.

I'm especially trying to let Matty know where my head is when sometimes all I want to do is fly under the radar and shut him out. It means the world to me that he believes in me and that I can work all this out. Or, as he says, that we can work all this out. That we're capable of doing this together. When he tells me that, I completely forget about the radar. All I want to do is fly high.

Summer Plans

Hi everybody! This is Brad and I'm going to be your Blog Host for a little while.

Matty started work earlier this week and he's not exactly sure what his hours are going to be since they can vary from day to day depending on the job they're working on.

If you remember he got his old job back at the construction company where he'll be helping them update, refinish, and refurbish old homes. I gotta say he's in heaven going back there since he's definitely not your 9 to 5 office kind of guy! Put him in an office and he'll be staring out the windows daydreaming. And squirming in his seat. And getting up all the time to walk around looking for other stuff to do!

Plus I'm gonna definitely enjoy welcoming him home at the end of his day. I mean, having my very own hunky construction worker walk in the front door with that leather belt thingy they wear to carry a hammer, screwdrivers, and other assorted equipment, is, well, a real turn on! I've already gotten some "hammering" out of the deal within 5 minutes of him walking in the door -- and I'm not talking about the "hammer" in his leather belt thingy either! He's got another "hammer" he keeps hidden most of the time that's got my name written on it! ;-)

I've already gone on two job interviews myself and I have a third one lined up. There's a restaurant in the next town over from where we live that looks really promising. It's one of those restaurants that has a really nice atmosphere inside -- not too formal and not too casual. Somewhere in between. They're looking for wait staff, which I have some experience with, and I got the impression I probably got a job there, even though he didn't formally offer it to me yet. I'm going back this weekend to see him again and that's when I'll find out.

I told him I was interested in getting some kitchen experience, even though I've never worked in a restaurant kitchen, but I was able to talk intelligently about cooking and he seemed impressed I suppose. He said he would talk to his chef about it and said I would have to be flexible in my hours if it worked out. So, we'll see.

I also had an interview yesterday at this really fancy (meaning upscale, five-star) restaurant in downtown Boston. It's one of those you're definitely not going to see your average college kid frequenting! Coat and tie. Platinum credit card in the wallet (you know, the ones that advertise: "You've earned it, and now is the time to start living your dreams.").

I only got the interview because I have an uncle who knows some people in the restaurant business. They seemed really nice, but it's definitely five-notches above what I'm use to when we eat out.

It was pretty clear that they're only interested in filling some wait staff positions. When I asked about working in the kitchen, one of the managers just stared at me like a deer in the headlight. Must have thought I just got off the boat or something. He quickly composed himself and said they have an arrangement with some culinary schools (both locally and internationally, he didn't hesitate to tell me) where those students can come to get some professional experience before they graduate. I'm definitely not in the running for that, needless to say. But, if I get my foot in the door, well, that would be good.

Oh, the good news! Both of us passed all our classes with flying colors! Yippee! If you remember, I was is a constant state of nerves the whole semester. Keeping up with assignments, doing all the readings, going to all the study groups, making it to all the classes, etc.... Now I can't remember what all the anxiety was about! Well, I do, but all I can say is I'm glad the semester is over. I'm sure (keeping my fingers crossed) the next semester will be a little less nerve wracking!

I'm still continuing with my therapy sessions each week, even though I'm not in summer school. I had to pre-enroll for next semester and I had to agree do this research thing through my faculty advisor over the summer.

Anyway, the sessions are going well. I still like the therapist I'm seeing and he's mainly helping me "pace" (his word) myself in the sessions. After I finished with finals I was thinking, Okay, now I can really get into all the hard issues I was avoiding while taking classes.

Oh man, did I have a waterfall of tears talking about some childhood issues. He very firmly told me it was important to "pace" myself through all this, meaning not to feel I had to tear my heart open and spill everything out in one or two sessions! That was a great relief. Now we're going at a slower pace and it feels a lot better. He laughed when I told him I didn't want any more Niagara Falls sessions! He joked back and said if every session was Niagara Falls, he'd have to charge me for all the Kleenex!

Well, I guess that's it for now. If you'll excuse me I need to do some cleaning around the house before my construction worker comes home -- hopefully to do some "hammering" with that "tool" that has my name on it! LOL.

Growing Up: What a Balancing Act

I've always been pretty good at balancing different things in my life.

When I was in high school, I was on the soccer team and that required a good chunk of my time going to practice. That was all about team work and learning how to use different playing skills as a member of the team.

It also required a lot of time practicing on my own. For example, trying to get better at juggling the ball is something you can only do on your own. I mean, you can practice juggling (like the guy on the right) with a bunch of other people around, but it's basically something you're doing by yourself. The purpose of this solo practice is to learn about timing and control so you can be a better team player.

Then I had to balance my soccer practice with studying for my classes and staying on top of my grades. Our coach always said something like, "Your school work always comes first. You fall behind in that and you're off the team." An important lesson in "balancing."

I also had a part-time job when I was in high school. There was a small family-owned grocery store close to where I lived and I was a bagger and stock boy. Now I had to add school work (number one priority) to soccer practice and my job. Another balancing act.

I did a pretty good job of managing all these things. I kept my grades up, I never missed soccer practice, I always made time for my solo soccer practice, and I always made it to work on time. Like I said, I've always been pretty good at balancing different things in my life.

At the time, I felt like all the things I just described required a huge amount of effort to stay on top of it all. Well, now we get to a different phase of my life.

I now feel like I'm taking an advanced course in how to balance my life.

One of the things I've been talking to my therapist about is how to better manage all the important things I'm doing. He asked me to make a list of these things. This is what I came up with:

1. My relationship with Matty
2. My course work in college.
3. My relationship with my dad.
4. Paying for college.
5. Spending time with family.
6. Spending time with friends.
7. Recreation and fun.

Well, one conclusion is that I'm not in high school any more!

My therapist then said he suspected the first four on the list probably involved more than a few emotions.

The next thing he wanted me to do was to identify which specific emotions were involved in each thing. Huh? What was he talking about? All I could come up with at the time was this:

1. Matty - Happy emotions.
2. College classes - Stress emotions.
3. Dad - Confused emotions.
4. Paying for college - Stress emotions.

Well, he tried to get me to elaborate on each emotion, and that was a little harder.

He said, "Are all your emotions with Matty 'happy'?"

"Well, mostly, but sometimes there's stress."

"What kinds of stress?"

"Well, you know."

(He didn't accept that as an answer. He said, "How do you think I would know unless you tell me?")

"Okay. Sometimes I have feelings when he forgets things."

"What kind of feelings?"

"Well.... I don't know. Maybe aggravated. I guess."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We went through each of the first four things I listed and he asked the same questions. The end result of that is I got an assignment. He gave me a handout listing all the different emotions there are. And it was in fine print. And it went on and on and on. (Not really, but that's what it felt like!)

He suggested I start keeping a "Feelings Journal" where I would keep track of different things I do that make me have a feeling. Then he wanted me to go to the list he gave me and find the feeling that best describes it.

Well, before I had my second session, I decided to rebel against my
therapist. Pretty ballsy, huh? What he wanted me to do with this assignment was making me have all kinds of emotions. These are the words on my handout that matched my emotions about doing this assignment:

Irritated. Annoyed. Upset. Miserable. Ashamed. Pessimistic. Alone. Fatigued. Vulnerable. Frustrated. Anxious. Worried. Restless. Dejected. Humiliated. Sorrowful. Unhappy. Lonely.

Lovely. Just lovely. Definitely not a pretty picture.

We talked about why I was feeling all those things and it all boiled down to me telling him this was making me feel too many things when I just need to concentrate on getting through finals. At least for right now.

"How do you feel right now telling me this assignment is too much?"

(I had the List of Feelings handout in my lap but I didn't want to look down at it. It felt like I might be looking at a cheat sheet, ya know?)

"Well.... I'm feeling like you might think I'm not trying hard enough. That I'm not doing my best."

"Brad, has anybody in your life ever told you, 'Brad, you're not trying hard enough? You're not doing your best.'?"

Well, I started getting teary and all I could say was, "Number three."

"Number three? I don't understand."

"Look at number three on that first list we did earlier."

"Your dad. Your dad use to tell you you're not trying hard enough?"

"Yep"

"Brad, I'm not your dad. You can tell me this assignment is too much and I'll respect that."

Well, if this was a play, the stage directions would say something like, [client breaks down crying].

The good thing about all this is that I feel like my therapist and I are on the same page. He gave me a relaxation CD and wants me to use it twice a day. He also wrote down this list (based on stuff I had already told him) and asked me to read it at least twice a day:

1. My GPA from high school was (__X__) [in the A range].
2. I've maintained an A-range in all my college assignments so far.
3. Even though I may feel I'm not trying hard enough, the reality is that A-range work in college is considered "above-average" performance.

I guess I'm doing a pretty good balancing act, all things considered.

Well, I did it!

Last Friday I went in for my intake appointment and met with a psychologist who explained that she would just be meeting with me once to ask a ton of questions about why I was interesting in counseling and to get some background information.

Needless to say I was very nervous beforehand. I had all kinds of ideas about what this appointment would be like and what the counselor would think about me.

The night before the appointment, I had a dream that the counselor would be about 80 years old with her hair in a tight, tight bun, pinched lips, humorless, wearing an old fashioned granny dress (black, with a pearl cluster broach on the left side), and wearing some old-fashioned eye glasses that were the thickness of a soda bottle and made her eyes look like a monster from the black lagoon. Oh, and the eye glasses would have one of those chains attached to each stem so she could take them off and they would fall hanging over her breasts.

I also pictured her asking me the required questions and then making these disapproving grunting sounds when I gave her extremely short answers. Then I imagined she would pause periodically and tell me to sit up straight.

Please, no interpretations of that dream. Thank you. ;)

Well, I'm glad to say the counselor was nothing like my dream pictured her being. She was probably in her mid-thirties, wore normal clothes with a really nice colorful scarf, had a pleasant smile, and never once told me to sit up straight!

One thing that took a little getting use to was all the notes she was taking. It didn't seem like she was writing down every single word I was saying, but she would ask a question, make a few short notes, and then ask something related to it, and so forth. After about 10 minutes it started feeling like we were having a normal conversation and I started telling her a lot more than I thought I would.

The other thing I found weird was that I was opening up and telling her all this extremely personal stuff about my life. I know that's what you do in counseling, but at first it felt very strange to be telling all this stuff to a total stranger. I didn't know a single thing about her except for her name and what kind of degree she had.

I guess what made it easier to start telling her more about myself was watching how she reacted to my answers. When I would say something with a little bit of humor, she would smile. When I would say something that got me a little emotional, she would look at me with some concern in her eyes, and once she moved the tissue box a little closer to me (which helped, but also made me tear up a little more).

We both sorta chuckled a little bit during the part when she asked me about my relationship with my dad, my mom, and my sister. I started off telling her about my mom and that we've always had a really good relationship. Then I told her some about my sister and how she's one of my closest friends.

Then I waited for her next question. She just looked at me and said something like, "Does it mean anything that you didn't mention your father?" I just looked at her and said, "Oh. Well. Yeah, maybe." So I was waiting for her to ask me something about him, and she said, "Have we just hit a hot button?" I sorta chuckled and said, "I think we can call it that, yeah." She made it easy to talk about him when she said for me to just take my time and I could tell her whatever I was comfortable saying. After I did, I'm sure she probably put a big star beside the notes she took.

One thing I really liked was when she asked if I was in a relationship with anyone special. That's about how she put it. She didn't assume I was straight and ask if I had a girlfriend. It was just, "Are you in a relationship with anyone special?" I thought the way she worded that was cool.

Anyway, she asked a bunch of other questions about how I was sleeping and eating. She also wanted to know when was the last time I ever thought about suicide or wanting to hurt myself. And then a lot of questions about what kind of mood I'm in most of the time, and so forth.

At the end, she said I had a lot of symptoms of depression and some anxiety. She explained that there were a lot of different types, and the kind of counseling I would be doing would be based on what kind I had and what kind of goals I wanted set for myself.

She said the next step is that they have a staff meeting on Tuesday mornings (today) and they would match me with a counselor they thought I might work well with. I'm suppose to get a call later today from that counselor and we'll set up our first appointment.

When I got home after meeting with that intake counselor, Matty was waiting by the front door and I was so drained from the session, he just wrapped me in his arms, held me tight, and just rubbed my back. He didn't need to say a word and just walked me over to the sofa, still holding me, and let me cry. After a short while I looked over at the dining room table and saw the most beautiful arrangement of Spring flowers, which he had ordered for me earlier.

We talked for a short while and then he asked if I wanted to go to our favorite Mexican restaurant. I wasn't all that hungry, but I thought it would be nice to get out of the house and have a little something to eat. Plus I just wanted to spend some time with Matty.

There's this Mexican restaurant we both love, and Mexican food is one of my favorite comfort foods and we've gotten to know the owners and most of the wait staff. The whole thing about the restaurant feels so comforting and the wait staff always likes it when we order and talk to them in Spanish. (I'll have to tell you about one time when Matty mispronounced some words and mistakenly told our female server something that really made her blush. I corrected him and he's now not officially engaged to marry her!! LOL)

So, there it is. I made it through the first hurdle and I'm waiting to hear from my assigned counselor later today. Yeah, I'm nervous all over again, but feel proud of myself for making it this far. I just hope it's not a counselor who tells me to sit up straight when I'm talking. Somehow I don't think it's going to be anything like that.