The Vine: August 23, 2002
Dear Sars,
I often agree with your advice, but I’ll have to take a pass on what you wrote Yo-Yo.
Before she throws in the towel for good and goes through something as traumatic as a divorce, she may want to try telling her husband that it’s time to go to couples therapy and get some help in working through their problems. A lot of times, going to a couples counselor really helps cut through all the b.s. , and helps clear up misperceptions of how a marriage is “supposed” to be. I think that you expect this person you’re with to be so sensitive to your needs (for God’s sake, they married you, didn’t they?) that it’s easy to get stuck in a cycle of blaming each other about little unfulfilled expectations that don’t seem like a big deal. (Or don’t seem like they should be a big deal.) A counselor can help by getting all those expectations out in the open and help the couple find a way to work to meet each person’s needs. It’s like going to a class entitled “how to argue constructively.” It’s not a sign of failure, and it doesn’t mean you’re inadequate. It does mean that you value the relationship enough to go and do something about it. Sometimes you need a little outside help to keep things going in a positive direction.
Yes, definitely, if Yo-Yo’s man refuses to go, she should start thinking of getting out, because it won’t get better; it sounds like there are issues here that a promise of “I’ll be better” won’t fix.
Been there, done that, glad we worked on it
Dear Been There,
I’ve never shied away from suggesting counselling. Hey, Ann Landers doesn’t suggest counselling as much as I do. (Well, obviously, because she’s dead, but you know what I mean.) But I’ve read enough letters (not to mention between the lines of them) to get a feel for when counseling is going to work. In this case, it seems like a waste of Yo-Yo’s time.
I see your point, but Yo-Yo’s husband 1) doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with the way he behaves, and therefore 2) probably won’t agree to go to counseling in the second place, or 3) take any attitude towards it besides “hey, it’s her problem,” even if he did agree to it.
Yo-Yo can’t figure out “how to be” around her husband. I’ve gone on a few tours of that exhausting and unhappy place myself, and it ain’t fixable. “How to be” with a guy like that is “somewhere else.”
Sars,
My dear friend Jimmy’s marrying Tina this fall, and next month marks the beginning of the requisite fanfare. The only problem: The prospect of several traumatic blasts from the past. I’ve known Jimmy forever, and he is remarkable at keeping in touch with…oh, all sorts of interesting exes and psychopaths that I never thought I’d have to see again.
I have no problem acting like a charming, socially adept adult. My question is — how can I control the physical manifestations of grinning and bearing it? It’s no joke. Every time I’m in this situation, I fall to pieces. I turn scarlet, sweating uncontrollably, trying to discreetly wring out my nasty swampy ice-cube hands. Never mind the wobbly knees, pounding heart, the bathroom problems, and the inability to handle a simple glass of wine.
Somehow I manage to give the impression of carefree good will and calm — so no one I know takes me seriously when I try to talk about it. I just want to find a way to relax. Any mantras or hot tips (besides Vicodin and Botox)?
I’m Shy, Dammit!
Dear Dammit!,
You “manage to give the impression of carefree good will and calm,” so that’s a plus — at least your terror isn’t obvious to others. At the very least, everyone thinks you’ve got it covered; nobody’s muttering behind their hands all “she’s losing it, man.”
But you still feel the terror, and you hate it. Totally understandable; I used to have hideous panic attacks, and the first thing you have to do is acknowledge it, accept it, and know that it’s really okay. If you feel your palms starting to moisten up, just roll with it. Remind yourself how many times you’ve soldiered through before, even though you’d have preferred to faint or run away; remind yourself that it’s only one day, one night, one week, whatever.
The second thing to do is to try to breathe slowly and evenly through your nose. I know that advice sounds totally simplistic and stupid, but there’s a physiological basis for it. Keep your breathing as normal and calm as possible. Take air in, and when you exhale, imagine your fear going with it. Know that it’s sending your heart and neurons a message to chill.
So that’s two things you can do on your own — don’t feel too nervous about feeling nervous, and don’t doubt that you can get through it. The next step is to see a behavioral psychologist who can help you identify your shyness triggers and give you tips on short-circuiting the physical manifestations before they start. She might prescribe you something for a few months, just to even you out a little at first, so that you can put what you’ve learned into practice more easily. Yeah, you just want to get through these rehearsal dinners, but this sounds like an ongoing problem for you, and you might live a happier life if you made it a priority to deal with it now.
If you can’t afford therapy, you could start smoking — it’s an iron-clad excuse to absent yourself from a hairy social situation and go out on the porch for a time-out — but for obvious reasons I wouldn’t recommend it.
Dear Sars,
Firstly, you rock. Secondly, I know you are not a licensed therapist but that is why I am turning to you. I cannot ask this of a therapist — especially not my own. My question is: How do you know when it is time to stop seeing your shrink?
I’ll give you a little history. I began seeing my current therapist, M, over a year ago. I was dealing with a MAJOR depression and I was just about ready to give up. Through therapy (and medication prescribed by my physician), I improved greatly. I am no longer immobilized, no longer convinced that life completely sucks, et cetera. In fact, I improved to the point where I was able to ease off the meds and reduce therapy sessions to once monthly, as opposed to weekly. I had begun pondering whether it was time to stop, but a few disappointing life experiences gave me reason to think it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to continue the monthly sessions for a little longer. For the most part, I’m doing pretty well and I use these sessions as sort of a “refresher course,” just to make sure I don’t slip back into old destructive patterns. We mostly discuss my future plans, and how best to implement them.
Then, at my last session, everything just seemed to go wrong. I mentioned a few things that were going on in my life. I mentioned that the ex-boyfriend calls occasionally to say hello. Suddenly, the session became very tense and M insisted that by accepting a phone call from the ex, I was contributing to his exercising control over me. My ex was no prize, but I by no means ever felt controlled, so I told M that I disagreed. M asked why I didn’t tell the ex never to call again. I told him I didn’t feel it was necessary — the phone calls are not upsetting to me. I was becoming VERY uncomfortable and began giving one-word responses which M interpreted as “resistance to therapy.” The session ended bizarrely with my crying hysterically and his prompting me to say that my parents were horrible to me and that I should go back to seeing him weekly. He said he was sorry I was sad, but that he was glad the “real” me came out. I left feeling so confused.
How do I know whether I’m being manipulated or whether he’s simply saying the truth which I don’t want to hear? M did help me out in the past, so I can’t completely dismiss what he has to say. How does one tactfully disagree with her therapist in a way that is productive to the overall therapy? Any insight you or your readers have would be greatly appreciated.
Thoroughly Mystified Millie
Dear Millie,
Boy, it’s Psych 205 in here today. Okay, let’s talk about the term “resistance” first. Resistance, like “denial,” is one of those assessments a therapist makes that you can’t necessarily prove or disprove, because M could conceivably put everything you say towards the theory. But the fact that you started crying hysterically suggests to me that there’s something going on you don’t want to deal with consciously.
And there’s something else that strikes me about the situation: Of course you’re resisting. You only go to therapy once a month. Therapists as a rule don’t love to space appointments that widely, for that very reason; thirty days lets a patient stack a lot of bricks between herself and the painful stuff therapy is designed to deal with, and the session often turns into an hour of relatively meaningless chit-chat as a result. Maybe you go in and do the heavy lifting once a month, but it doesn’t sound like it to me. It’s a bit odd that M would choose to bring the issue up now, since he’s a licensed therapist and presumably knows that that’s how resistance works by now, but he’s probably got a point.
I don’t want to make you feel bad, or like you don’t “do therapy right.” Obviously, if you no longer feel comfortable with M or you sense that he’s leaning on you to make more appointments because he wants more of your money, you should change therapists. But I think you should make weekly appointments with M for a month or two, and try to slug it out in there. Acknowledge the possibility that he’s right, and see where that takes you, because to my mind you’ll get more good from writing in a journal than from only going to sessions once a month.
And tell him what you just told me. He’s trained to deal with these reactions; part of therapy is untangling the patient’s feelings about the therapy, and the therapist. Tell him you resent his diagnosis of resistance. Tell him you feel manipulated. Talk about it. See what he says and where you wind up with it. Do the hard work for four weeks or six weeks, and if you still feel he’s off-base, take it from there.
Tags: boys (and girls) health and beauty
