Not touching ground at all

22 08 2017

Sucks to look for a therapist.

Physician? Not a problem: as long as the person’s competent and friendly (enough), I can work with him or her. I found my current doc via a walk-in service I used when insurance-less; now insured, I still see her, and she’s fine.

But a therapist? I gotta click with the person, and since I don’t know ahead of time who I’ll think, Yeah, okay, this is someone I’m willing to talk to even when I’m unwilling to talk, it’s a pain in the ass to search.

Well, that, and that I’m looking for a therapist means I’m NOT IN THE MOOD to be looking for a therapist.

I’ve had two good therapists, one nice-but-not-great one, and a number of non-starters. The two good ones were nothing alike—one was a younger psychiatrist who taught in the UW med school and was laid-back in her approach; the other was older, had a master’s in counseling psychology, and pushed—but both were tough and kind. I trusted each of them as much as I’ve trusted anyone.

So, beyond “tough and kind”, I don’t really have a type. I’ll know within a session or two—well, honestly, I’ll know within one session if I cannot work with someone, a few more if I can—which means I have to do the therapeutic equivalent of speed-dating before deciding on a relationship.

This shouldn’t be that big of a deal: meet for an introductory session, and if it works, great, and if not, well, it was only one session. But this seems like an enormous obstacle when one is NOT IN THE MOOD to be doing much of anything—which is, of course, no small part of the reason why I’m looking for a therapist in the first place.

I’ve been avoiding looking for months, but tonight I finally hopped on to my insurer’s website and looked for therapists who a) they covered; b) dealt with affective disorders; c) were in a convenient location; and d) had a schedule which would accommodate my own. I found three who met these criteria, although if none of these work out, there are plenty more available.

Now, having managed to drag myself out of my torpor long enough to find some possible therapists, I need to maintain this momentum (hah!) to confirm that my insurance coverage does, indeed, cover the therapist AND THEN book an appointment! Horrors.

Do I have it in me? I’d better, if I’m not to sink any further into this lassitude. I’m not in crisis, which makes it easy to put this off, but if I put it off too much longer, well, I might still be fine, or fine enough.

But knowing what not-fine is like and that that’s a risk? Yeah, I’d best get on this.

Big wheel keep on turnin’

25 03 2013

Funny how that works: You start writing, and then. . . you just keep writing.

The upside of inertia.

Would you go?

5 11 2012

Bodies in motion tend to stay in motion; bodies at rest, to stay at rest.

Newton’s first law describes the principle of inertia; for a body to change its inertial status, force must be applied.

When I was young, I was a body in motion: my default was Go. A party, a scene, a county fair, anything happening anywhere—go.

Go, go, gotta keep moving, gotta move on.

That worked, for a while, a long while, but as I fled into the molasses of depression, I wound down, and out, and the default shifted. It was a survival tactic: even amidst my self-destructiveness, there were parts of my life I sought to protect. I cannibalized my social and political life in order to feed my intellectual life.

That worked pretty well for graduate school, actually. There was no time, especially in those early years, for anything other than study, so withdrawing from social activity made both emotional and practical sense.

Yet, over a decade past my turning away from self-destruction, and I wonder if it is possible yet again to shift my default. I don’t need the freneticism of my youth, but this quietude is too much like passivity; this quietude has become passivity. It gets in the way of what matters.

I did finally make my way down to the Red Hook Initiative and put in some hours helping people, and since my downtown office will be closed tomorrow, I think I’ll head down there again. But it took me so long to get there, so much talking myself into doing what needed to be done. I hate it when anyone tells me that I think too much—I don’t think it’s possible to think too much—but I do too often think dishonestly, that is, I use my intellect to de-activate myself, to justify that de-activation.

I’ve said before that I am a polar person: I  swing too far in one direction, then too far in the other, and only after blowing past the far points can I make my way towards the center. Perhaps this has been one hella long swing from too much to too little. I’ve gotten used to being a bystander, but perhaps instead of saying This is how I am, I could say, A little push, and I’m on my way.

I don’t have to run and I don’t have to hide; I just need a new default for somewhere in-between.