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This message has been edited. Last edited by: springreen,

Yes. It's a painful process.

In my experience, yes, therapy has made me worse. But, in my case, I was so dissociated from everything, literally not allowing myself to feel anything, that it was bound to happen. Seven months later, I still don't think I've hit bottom. You sound like you're connecting to your anger about those memories, though, so I'm guessing you will probably progress more quickly (just a guess). I still see my childhood stuff and at best feel, "Objectively, I guess that sucks, but so what?"

Springreen,
It is unfortunately, completely normal to feel worse at first. Usually for two reasons. You are often trying to bring into consciousness, feelings and memories you've avoided for a long time. If they were pleasant you wouldn't have been avoiding them in the first place. So when you start letting them out it's not a lot of fun.

The other issue is that you are trying to let go of defense mechanisms that worked for us in the past but may have become destructive now. But when you stop using those defenses, you often haven't yet learned new, healthier ways of coping, so you're dealing with all the pain, those defenses were protecting you from.

My T often talked about how this happens and how confusing it is for new clients, since after all you go to therapy to feel better.

AG

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Originally posted by Attachment Girl:
It is unfortunately, completely normal to feel worse at first.

How long is "at first"? I've been in therapy for 7-8 months now and I'm still getting worse.

Springreen, sorry you feel the same way! I hope it gets better soon!

Yeah, I was wondering the same thing Frosty... I clearly remember telling my T when I first started that I was managing things fine in my work life, but that I didn't want my personal life/problems to seep into work. That was two months ago. Now, my personal life/problems have taken over completely, and at work, while always a welcome distraction, it is a lot more challenging to stay focused and present, and I'm finding myself making silly errors and forgetting things which is rather unusual for me at work.

I think, at least for me, that the work I'm doing with my T is shining light into some of the deepest, darkest areas of my brain. Now that those areas have a little light, they aren't staying fully hidden anymore, and it's getting harder to live that double life (all put together at work, falling apart outside of work.)

It is so not fun right now. I have to keep remembering that quote - "Just when the caterpillar thought that life was over, it became a butterfly." -anonymous - things might be getting worse right now, but eventually, I'll emerge all the better because of this sucky-ness? Right?

quote:

things might be getting worse right now, but eventually, I'll emerge all the better because of this sucky-ness? Right?

I hope so!

I wonder almost every day if it's worth shining light into some of the deepest areas of my brain as you so nicely put it.
I know that I had plenty of reasons to go to therapy but I can hardly manage to live a "normal" life now.
It's all become so difficult. I'm exhausted after 1 hour of doing something outside of home, meeting friends is not something fun but something stressful and so on and on.
I really hope this is worth it because if not...

Yep, totally normal. Some types of therapy can be more destabilizing than others as well, but in general it is totally normal.

I remember once my T likened it to having your lawnmower in the shop and having it all taken apart and cleaning all of the parts and then putting it back together. I got really indignant with her and said, "yeah, but while it is in the shop nobody expects you to still be able to mow with it!" In our case (those of us in therapy) we are being taken apart piece by piece but are still expected to be whole and walk around and do what we are supposed to be doing. Many of us don't even have the benefit of even being able to tell others that we are "in for repairs" so to speak. People start to notice that the lawn is only half mowed or mowed all crooked, but you can't even tell them why!

STRM - Exactly! That is just what I am feeling. I might do a phone call with T this week and I may have to steal your response there!!!

I am getting less functional every week it seems...

From my experience it does get worse at first and then it gets really bad but you learn with time new coping skills, you learn to lean on your T a bit more (hopefully T allows this) and then you begin to develop your own strength and can walk without wobbling. Soon you can fly.

But it may take a long time. And I do understand that in the meantime it's REALLY hard to keep that lawn mowed nicely (thanks STRM). And people who are not in therapy have NO idea what it's like. That's why this place is such a haven of support. We get it.

And... therapy is not linear and you may have breaks in the clouds for awhile before tackling something else... so you do get some relief here and there.

TN

quote:

And... therapy is not linear and you may have breaks in the clouds for awhile before tackling something else... so you do get some relief here and there.

My T likened this experience to bobbing up and down in the water with a life jacket on. You keep going under and it's scary and exhausting, but you always come up for air and I guess you eventually get to climb in the boat and get the heck out of there.

Well I hope my boat is a luxury cruise ship with good food and a nice spa!

How did your session go tonight Yaku?

Thanks for asking, TN.

I had my session last night...unless you mean the phone session, which I am still waiting to have scheduled. Last night's session, I just felt I couldn't get across to him how heavy the transference stuff is and its interference with daily functioning. I texted/emailed him about it and now he's offering a phone session, so I'm assuming there is stuff we need to talk about. Though, that might be because I told him I'm seriously considering quitting right now...I just want to know how to manage these feelings without being crushed. Crossing my fingers that phone session clarifies or at least makes me feel like he can help me feel contained within the giant chasm that is the six days and twenty-three hours between our time together.