You might recall that I didn’t seem to connect very well with my previous therapist, who was intent on making me do mindfulness techniques despite my lack of enthusiasm. He then suddenly left the practice, and I declined his invitation to follow him to his new office. I thought I could work on my anxiety on my own. Yeah, right.
This week, I started seeing my fifth therapist, who works at my psychiatrist’s office. The first appointment is always difficult, especially for someone like me who feels awkward talking about myself, to a stranger, trying to summarize my dumpster-fire life in an hour. I started out very nervous, like it was a test I had not prepared for; she actually offered me some fidget toys if they would help. I passed on the toys, but I calmed down a little while we talked.
She seems like a good listener; even though she was typing notes as fast as I was talking, she asked the right questions when necessary. She appears to be quite young, but I don’t have any problem with that. Her personality would be good with children, but she didn’t treat me like a child. Overall I got a good feeling from the visit.
After the short life history (which I struggled to keep short), she asked what the most important things were to discuss. I told her that I have already written a “field guide” to my many mental health problems, but maybe we could start with my social anxiety and general anxiety. She was interested in reading my lists, so I will print that out for next time.
I’m guessing that starting with a new therapist is as difficult for everyone else as it is for me. I am forced to immediately allow her within my “trusted circle” rather than getting to know her slowly, which is quite unnerving. This is a place where only a few people are allowed, and yet here is a stranger I am telling things usually only reserved for my blog friends. At the same time, I have to remember she is a professional, paid to listen and help me solve problems, and we’re not going out for coffee afterward.