Thoughts From Therapy

I feel a little motivated to write again, which is cool. Things are heating up again in therapy, about which I'm very angry. But maybe this is a good thing, since it seems that if I'm to make any progress in my life, I have to challenge the ideas and beliefs I have about the world.

What pisses me off is that for the umpteenth time, my therapist asked me what it is that's preventing me from moving forward. Note that I've been seeing the guy for over two years. To me, that seems like more than enough time to get to know me. (Of course, I could be wrong about that, since 1) there are many paths to explore in psychotherapy, and it's possible that there are some areas that I haven't fully fleshed out for him, and 2) some people spend something like twenty years in psychotherapy without making any progress. As for the latter, I don't personally know anyone like that, and I think I've been around a lot of people who have depression. Then again, I don't usually go around asking them how many years they've spent in therapy.) He doesn't seem to understand that all I really want to do is die. I want to die because right now, it looks like the only way I can end my suffering. What are three of the most common words that people say before committing suicide? "Goodbye, cruel world." My sentiments exactly. Nothing captures the emotions I've had for the past twelve years (the total amount of time that I've had depression) more than those words.

Anyway, I felt that by now he himself should know the exact reasons why I haven't done things to make my life better. It makes me angry that he doesn't. It doesn't help that I don't really like the guy very much. I told him so, but he stated pretty bluntly that the only alternative would be to start over with someone else. That seemed to be the greater of two evils, so I decided to stick with him.

To be fair, the guy is probably doing the best he can. I guess that's really the best I can expect from anybody. Really none of the therapists I've had have successfully motivated me to do anything constructive about my life. Once there was one guy, however, who I connected with very well. He was more of an intellectual psychiatrist, which I consider myself to be sometimes (an intellectual, not a psychiatrist). He was actually the director of the psychiatric division of a hospital where I once stayed. I thought he was a very bright guy, so it made sense to me that he would be the director. Unfortunately, I only had one brief fifteen-minute session with him, which was a perfunctory activity for any director.

The Chicken or the Egg?

One problem among many that I have with my current therapist has to do with a particular psychological theory he believes. He simply believes that the more things that a person does, the less depressed he or she will feel. In other words, in life you have to "just do it" whether or not you feel like doing it. I believe in the converse, which is that motivation must come before activity. He thinks that this is putting the cart before the horse. But why does a person do anything in life, for example? Because at a very basic level, he or she has a motivation to do it. Why does a slave follow the orders of his taskmaster? Because he is motivated to avoid the pain of getting whipped (unless you have a sadistic taskmaster, who whips his slaves no matter what they do. I don't see how that would be effective in getting them to do any work, however.). If a person has a gun pointed at his head, why does he do things he ordinarily wouldn't do? Because he is motivated to minimize the probability of getting killed. Why do teams in sports, or boxers in boxing have coaches? Well, there are many reasons, but one of the coaches' duties is to motivate his or her players to win. You might say that with the paycheck he receives, that should be reason enough for him to win, or that it's his job to play to win, but still, both of those reasons count as motivations for him to win.

Fear vs. Truth

Another idea that he's tried to impress on me is that I have this elaborate set of negative beliefs about the world, therefore I'm making myself miserable by holding on to these beliefs. It's as if there's a serious drama or opera going on in my mind. It's only in my mind because in reality, no one else, at least recently, has imposed any negative judgments on me. Basically, I'm living in my own world. Well, can you blame me? Based on the experiences I've had in my life, reality sucks. On the other hand, he may be right. Part of therapy is about confronting one's fears. In order for me to change and to grow, in the process I'm going to have to do some things that I won't like. I used to want to justify my beliefs by saying that every person forms beliefs about the world. Mine are not negative, they just seem to me to be the most correct beliefs, i.e. they're closest to the truth. But I also know that it's true that I'm avoiding people because of an irrational fear.

Fear Itself

Given that this is the case, what is the method for overcoming this? Most people believe that it's gradual exposure over time of what I fear. What should happen to me, I guess, is that I should experience being around people and gradually realize that they're not going to bite my head off. I don't know... I don't know. That scares the shit out of me. I feel like I just can't, including even the smallest step of saying hello to somebody. What if they don't smile back, or what if they ignore me? What if they're one of those people to whom you've been introduced, but you're not supposed to say hello to on a regular basis? To someone without social anxiety, I guess that's not a big deal. But to me, it's a huge deal. So basically, I'm not supposed to think it's a big deal? The only times that this has ever happened to me was when I was intoxicated. I lose most of my inhibitions, and my judgment becomes impaired. To put it simply, I don't have the ability to react fast enough to someone who is rejecting me. Believe me, I've told psychiatrists about this, in particular that I wish there were a pill I could take that would make me lose my inhibitions, as if I were drunk, but without the nasty side effects. But most psychiatrists I've seen have medicated me for depression, not social anxiety, thinking that the latter is not as important, I suppose. One psychiatrist did try Neurontin on me, but that did jack shit, as have most SSRI's I've taken.

Paradox

It boils down to a matter of taking risks. At this point, if I can manage to make more strides socially, it will be a big step towards reducing my depression. After all, I have no friends. That's not an opinion -- that's a plain, hard fact. For someone who has no friends, then, it is not unreasonable to predict that they would harbor a dislike of humanity. Therefore, how can I, an a priori hater of humanity, want to make friends of them? More importantly, why? As a counterexample, I love my pets. They're the only living entities that have been with me through thick and thin and haven't judged me (that is, except for bacteria, assorted fungi, and the like. Unfortunately, they lack the capacity to make such judgments. If they didn't, they might reject me as well.). This is my paradox. Even though I hate humanity, as a human being, I have to make friends with other human beings. I'm supposed to get along with them. If I were an alien from Pluto, then I wouldn't give a damn about making friends with humans. Hell, even Adolf Hitler and Osama Bin Laden have friends.

Being Vulnerable

Of course, you can say that I haven't allowed other people to like me. I'm like a turtle who refuses to go outside his shell, which leads to my next point. A prerequisite to taking risks is allowing myself to be vulnerable. Being vulnerable means sticking my neck out at the risk of being rejected. Being vulnerable means initiating contact with someone even though they may not be in the mood for talking, or they may eventually end up not liking me. Being vulnerable means making eye contact with someone while I'm speaking to them even though they may frown or have a strange expression on their face while I speak. Being vulnerable means asking a girl out on a date even though I'm broke, unemployed, and way out of her league. Being vulnerable means getting to know someone even though they may think I'm weird, or boring, or socially awkward, or stupid, or fat, or just a plain old loser. Being vulnerable means saying something to a person even though they may find it offensive. Being vulnerable means writing this blog and being open to criticism.

Damn, I Played Hookie

All I want is to know, specifically and explicitly, what the hell to do in case these negative things happen. How do social workers, psychologists, counselors, and therapists know what to say to the people they're trying to help? They know because they've been trained. How do police officers, firefighters, EMT's, etc. know what to do in cases of emergency? They've been trained. Well, I'm sorry but I must have been absent the day they taught social skills in school. Why don't they train people in this stuff? Because most people don't need explicit instruction on these skills; they pick it up automatically. Well, guess what. I haven't picked it automatically. That sucks for me, doesn't it? I've been playing a game of musical chairs, and I'm the only fucking one left without a seat.

Others have told me that I shouldn't care about what other people think, and I shouldn't let any negative opinions they may have about me get to me. On the contrary, it seems to me that I have to care very much about what other people think, if I ever want to have any friends. If a person doesn't like me, then I don't have much of a chance of being their friend, do I?

Keeping My Hands on the Plow (How Dull!)

How do I want other people to help me? Maybe I simply don't want to be helped. Do you, reader of this blog entry, want to help me? I don't think so. If you do, good luck! I'm not writing this blog in order to be helped. I'm writing it as a free expression of thought and feeling. The only thing I'm willing to do in therapy, at least right now, is to keep exploring and talking about more ideas and ways that I can change my life for the better. They also have to be things I'm willing to do, or can become motivated to do, either by myself or someone else. I'm not down with "just doing" anything. So for now, the process continues.

Is it twenty years yet?