I rarely sleep well on Monday nights because I am usually getting anxious about psychotherapy on a Tuesday morning. Last night was different; I still didn't get much sleep but it was my own fault because I just kept knitting rather than going to bed as I should have done. When the alarm went this morning I didn't want to get out of bed, but I did.
I was feeling very depressed, but I had been expecting that and was prepared for it. No matter how hard you try to not think about significant anniversaries they always creep into your brain insidiously and you just have to learn to cope with it. Today would have been my husband's birthday; he would have been 61. But even though I was feeling low, I wasn't feeling anxious. This was a first for me and I thought that I had the anxiety thing cracked. I was wrong; oh boy, was I wrong.
I got up to the 4th floor, pushed the buzzer, was admitted into the psychological services department, took off my coat and sat down on one of the chairs in the waiting area. And within seconds the anxiety started to build up. By the time my psychologist called me to his room I was suffering gut-wrenching spasms caused by the anxiety.
As I have mentioned before, the aim of this therapy is to stop me turning my anger in on myself; I need to express my anger, when it occurs, so that I no longer suppress it and cause it to fester inside me. As the weeks of therapy have progressed, I have had to learn to stop doing what I have done for most of my life. It isn't easy. Not only because I am having to unlearn the strategies that I have developed to prevent my anger spilling out onto other people, but also because my psychologist is such a nice person.
Today things went better than they have ever done before. It was not long before I was feeling angry; unfortunately I was more angry at myself for getting angry, than I was with my psychologist. Okay, it wasn't exactly what we were after, but it was a start. But things got better and it wasn't long before I was shouting at my therapist, and at one point I was ready to leap out of my chair, cross the office and hit him.
At this point, J decided that things had gone far enough for today, and we finished the session by talking about how I felt, what had been going through my mind as these actions occurred and why it was so important for me to stop the self-destructive practice of internalizing my anger. I told him that I felt really drained, and he replied that this was good because it showed that I had been engaging in the therapy properly and it was finally starting to show results.
I came back home and I could so easily have gone to bed to sleep. But I didn't, I want to sleep tonight, and I had an appointment with my GP this evening so I needed to make sure that I didn't miss that. Tonight I am going to have an early night, and hope that I can sleep the night through. However, saying I will have an early night is easy, actually making sure that it happens is a different thing completely.
Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
If It's Tuesday ...
... it must be psychotherapy. So this means that this crazy mixed up lady doesn't sleep well on a Monday night and wakes Tuesday morning with anxiety that makes doing even simple things time consuming.
I never eat breakfast on a Tuesday morning because I feel sick at the thought of it, just as I used to on a Friday morning when I was having psychotherapy before. I start to panic about making sure that I leave the house with plenty of time to make my appointment, allowing for problems with getting a bus that never materialise, and consequently arriving at the hospital long before my appointment time. I usually get myself a cup of tea at the little kiosk on the ground floor of the hospital, and if it isn't too cold or raining too hard, I make my way out to the hospital's little garden to drink my tea and have a cigarette.
The garden can be a tranquil place to pass the time for both patients and visitors. There are numerous squirrels that can be seen racing along the fences and onto the roof of the covered area in the far corner of the garden. A robin guards his territory from all comers and will ferociously attack any bird, no matter their size, if he thinks that they have come to take over his home ground. Sometimes the tranquility is broken by the squawking of parakeets that have become indigenous to the area.
Sometimes, and this morning was one such occasion, the tranquility is broken by shouting from the exercise area provided for the patients from the psychiatric intensive care unit; it is separated from the garden for the main part of the psychiatric hospital by the wooden fence of the hospital garden and the high wire fence around the exercise area. Today there was just one patient in the exercise area when I entered the garden and she was making sure that people knew she was there. The area behind the psychiatric and general hospitals is a park and is used as a short-cut by many people particularly those going to the hospitals from the local station and by others trying to shorten their journey to the local college and to a nearby comprehensive school. The patient in the exercise area spent about 10 minutes or more shouting to anybody that she could see, begging them to set her free or telling them to study hard. Eventually she was called back in from the area and quiet was again restored to the garden.
After having to race up to the fourth floor last week (which isn't easy for someone with an arthritic hip which plays up terribly in the cold) I was constantly looking at my watch this morning to make sure that I wasn't late. The consequence of this was that I arrived at the fourth floor 15 minutes early and then had to sit waiting for my psychologist to come to collect me and take me to his office. That meant 15 minutes for the calmness that I had manage to achieve sitting in the garden to disappear and 15 minutes for anxiety to take over; stomach-wrenching anxiety that was physically painful.
Today's session seemed to pass in a flash. My feelings changed from minute to minute; it was hard, it was painful, it was emotional, it was thought-provoking, I was frightened, I was anxious, I was angry. We talked about whether I saw it as a form of torture, for that is often what the expression on my face as I enter my psychologist's office seems to indicate. We talked about whether I felt that the therapy was working and we talked about why I find it so hard to stop turning my anger against myself.
There were moments this morning when I felt so angry that I felt as though I was going to explode, and one moment when I literally saw red. Yet, on leaving the hospital this morning I felt calm. I felt that although the session had been hard work that I had tried to engage in that work in a way that meant that I wasn't punishing myself. And at the end of it I had a sense of well-being that I don't think that I have ever felt before.
I'm sure that when next Tuesday arrives I shall be anxious as usual, but I also know that it is possible for me to work at the therapy and for it to help me to stop trying to martyr myself by directing feelings at myself when they should rightly be directed elsewhere.
I never eat breakfast on a Tuesday morning because I feel sick at the thought of it, just as I used to on a Friday morning when I was having psychotherapy before. I start to panic about making sure that I leave the house with plenty of time to make my appointment, allowing for problems with getting a bus that never materialise, and consequently arriving at the hospital long before my appointment time. I usually get myself a cup of tea at the little kiosk on the ground floor of the hospital, and if it isn't too cold or raining too hard, I make my way out to the hospital's little garden to drink my tea and have a cigarette.
The garden can be a tranquil place to pass the time for both patients and visitors. There are numerous squirrels that can be seen racing along the fences and onto the roof of the covered area in the far corner of the garden. A robin guards his territory from all comers and will ferociously attack any bird, no matter their size, if he thinks that they have come to take over his home ground. Sometimes the tranquility is broken by the squawking of parakeets that have become indigenous to the area.
Sometimes, and this morning was one such occasion, the tranquility is broken by shouting from the exercise area provided for the patients from the psychiatric intensive care unit; it is separated from the garden for the main part of the psychiatric hospital by the wooden fence of the hospital garden and the high wire fence around the exercise area. Today there was just one patient in the exercise area when I entered the garden and she was making sure that people knew she was there. The area behind the psychiatric and general hospitals is a park and is used as a short-cut by many people particularly those going to the hospitals from the local station and by others trying to shorten their journey to the local college and to a nearby comprehensive school. The patient in the exercise area spent about 10 minutes or more shouting to anybody that she could see, begging them to set her free or telling them to study hard. Eventually she was called back in from the area and quiet was again restored to the garden.
After having to race up to the fourth floor last week (which isn't easy for someone with an arthritic hip which plays up terribly in the cold) I was constantly looking at my watch this morning to make sure that I wasn't late. The consequence of this was that I arrived at the fourth floor 15 minutes early and then had to sit waiting for my psychologist to come to collect me and take me to his office. That meant 15 minutes for the calmness that I had manage to achieve sitting in the garden to disappear and 15 minutes for anxiety to take over; stomach-wrenching anxiety that was physically painful.
Today's session seemed to pass in a flash. My feelings changed from minute to minute; it was hard, it was painful, it was emotional, it was thought-provoking, I was frightened, I was anxious, I was angry. We talked about whether I saw it as a form of torture, for that is often what the expression on my face as I enter my psychologist's office seems to indicate. We talked about whether I felt that the therapy was working and we talked about why I find it so hard to stop turning my anger against myself.
There were moments this morning when I felt so angry that I felt as though I was going to explode, and one moment when I literally saw red. Yet, on leaving the hospital this morning I felt calm. I felt that although the session had been hard work that I had tried to engage in that work in a way that meant that I wasn't punishing myself. And at the end of it I had a sense of well-being that I don't think that I have ever felt before.
I'm sure that when next Tuesday arrives I shall be anxious as usual, but I also know that it is possible for me to work at the therapy and for it to help me to stop trying to martyr myself by directing feelings at myself when they should rightly be directed elsewhere.
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
A Walk On The Dark Side
Tuesday is psychotherapy day for me at the moment. I always wake with a feeling of trepidation (although most Monday nights just recently I haven't managed much sleep) and an awareness that I am going to be tested. Because I have this thing about always being on time for any appointment, I always arrive early, sometimes very early, and today was one of those days. This morning the bus arrived within a couple of minutes of me getting to the bus stop and it seemed that there were not many people who wanted to get on or off the bus because the journey seemed to fly by.
Arriving early this morning meant that I was able to go to the Outpatients Department to make an appointment to see my consultant psychiatrist (I should have seen him last Thursday but as I was an inpatient and seeing the ward consultant, the appointment was cancelled). Unfortunately I won't be able to see him for a couple of weeks as he is off for two weeks, but I can live with that. After having completed this task, I bought myself a cup of tea and went out into the garden to pass the time before my psychotherapy appointment. I had almost an hour to wait, but it was quite pleasant sitting in the sun and I had my Nintendo DSi in my handbag so I could do a few puzzles to pass the time. And time passed much quicker than I expected because when I looked at my watch I found that I only had a couple of minutes to make it up to the 4th floor. There are two lifts, a large one and a small one and only the small one goes to the 4th floor. Usually I have to wait ages for this lift, but today as luck would have it, it was at the ground floor and the doors opened as soon as I pressed the button. I made it to the 4th floor with about a minute to spare instead of being about 10 minutes early as I am normally.
The work that we are doing in this psychotherapy is related to me directing anger at myself rather than at others. I have, for as long as I can remember, tried to bottle up my anger and avoid lashing out at others either verbally or physically. This has meant that I have ended up hurting myself emotionally and mentally. In these sessions I am encouraged to feel anger towards my therapist and not keep it bottled up. Today it happened in a way that it hasn't before and it was an overwhelming feeling.
For the first time, I found myself physically shaking with anger and only finding release from it by shouting at my therapist and taking it out on the arm of the chair. I was a little shocked by how much pain I felt within my body through the tensed up muscles and the difficulty with breathing. It seems strange to be undertaking therapy where the aim is for me to get angry and express it in a way that means that I am not containing it; it is more usual for people to undergo therapy to help in management of anger to contain that anger so that it does not hurt other people.
During the last part of the session, my therapist asked me how I felt after our sessions. I said that I usually feel very drained, often very emotional, and that it is not unusual for me to need a nap in the afternoon to cope with the feelings. Today, perhaps somewhat strangely, I have not needed a nap. I have actually felt quite calm and relaxed, far more so than I have for a long time. It seems that having pushed me to feel anger in a way that I probably haven't since I was a small child, my therapist has started me on the path to letting my feelings out. It's not easy being angry with someone who is a nice person, but I am finding it easier to express my anger as the weeks progress.
After my therapy session I walked to the shops, had some lunch, bought the knitting needles and polyester filling that I need for the teddy and the doll that I am working on, and some extra wool that I needed for the doll's clothes. I still have to buy some bits and pieces to decorate the doll's clothes, but that means a trip to a shopping centre with a shop with a good craft department; perhaps a job for tomorrow. Having managed to get the very fine needles that I required for the doll, I can now start work on her when I have finished the piece of her clothing that I am working on at the moment. Like teddy, she will be photographed in all her finery once she is completed.
Arriving early this morning meant that I was able to go to the Outpatients Department to make an appointment to see my consultant psychiatrist (I should have seen him last Thursday but as I was an inpatient and seeing the ward consultant, the appointment was cancelled). Unfortunately I won't be able to see him for a couple of weeks as he is off for two weeks, but I can live with that. After having completed this task, I bought myself a cup of tea and went out into the garden to pass the time before my psychotherapy appointment. I had almost an hour to wait, but it was quite pleasant sitting in the sun and I had my Nintendo DSi in my handbag so I could do a few puzzles to pass the time. And time passed much quicker than I expected because when I looked at my watch I found that I only had a couple of minutes to make it up to the 4th floor. There are two lifts, a large one and a small one and only the small one goes to the 4th floor. Usually I have to wait ages for this lift, but today as luck would have it, it was at the ground floor and the doors opened as soon as I pressed the button. I made it to the 4th floor with about a minute to spare instead of being about 10 minutes early as I am normally.
The work that we are doing in this psychotherapy is related to me directing anger at myself rather than at others. I have, for as long as I can remember, tried to bottle up my anger and avoid lashing out at others either verbally or physically. This has meant that I have ended up hurting myself emotionally and mentally. In these sessions I am encouraged to feel anger towards my therapist and not keep it bottled up. Today it happened in a way that it hasn't before and it was an overwhelming feeling.
For the first time, I found myself physically shaking with anger and only finding release from it by shouting at my therapist and taking it out on the arm of the chair. I was a little shocked by how much pain I felt within my body through the tensed up muscles and the difficulty with breathing. It seems strange to be undertaking therapy where the aim is for me to get angry and express it in a way that means that I am not containing it; it is more usual for people to undergo therapy to help in management of anger to contain that anger so that it does not hurt other people.
During the last part of the session, my therapist asked me how I felt after our sessions. I said that I usually feel very drained, often very emotional, and that it is not unusual for me to need a nap in the afternoon to cope with the feelings. Today, perhaps somewhat strangely, I have not needed a nap. I have actually felt quite calm and relaxed, far more so than I have for a long time. It seems that having pushed me to feel anger in a way that I probably haven't since I was a small child, my therapist has started me on the path to letting my feelings out. It's not easy being angry with someone who is a nice person, but I am finding it easier to express my anger as the weeks progress.
After my therapy session I walked to the shops, had some lunch, bought the knitting needles and polyester filling that I need for the teddy and the doll that I am working on, and some extra wool that I needed for the doll's clothes. I still have to buy some bits and pieces to decorate the doll's clothes, but that means a trip to a shopping centre with a shop with a good craft department; perhaps a job for tomorrow. Having managed to get the very fine needles that I required for the doll, I can now start work on her when I have finished the piece of her clothing that I am working on at the moment. Like teddy, she will be photographed in all her finery once she is completed.
Tuesday, 9 February 2010
Psychotherapy Is Hard
I did eventually manage to get to sleep at about 3am this morning. I woke when the alarm went off at 9am; I had set it just in case I did get to sleep to make sure that I got up in plenty of time to get to the bus stop to catch the bus to the hospital for today's psychotherapy session.
Psychotherapy is not for the faint-hearted. In order to help one to make progress you have to commit to it wholeheartedly and invariably this means you will enter territory that you would rather avoid. This is not a new experience for me having undertaken a year of psychodynamic psychotherapy from May 2008 to May 2009. I learnt a lot about myself during that year and I had to delve back into my early life to find the triggers that had made me the person that I was and helped to explain why, having become so depressed, I was finding it so difficult to return to a normal happy life.
A more CBT approach is being taken with the psychotherapy that I am currently undergoing. the main aim of this therapy is to get me to stop the self-destructive pattern of anger suppression that I developed as a young child, with the aim that I learn to express my anger in a normal manner rather than turning it in on myself.
Deliberately trying to invoke a feeling of anger in someone cannot be easy, yet that is what my therapist has been doing over recent weeks. Today, he managed to bring about such anger in me that it was a physically painful experience for me. For the first time I realised just how much I had been turning that anger back in on myself and the the harm it has done. For the first time I realised how much it had affected my emotions over the years and how much and how often I had given way even when I knew I was in the right because I didn't want to get angry.
Anger is a normal emotion. There will always be thing that make us angry and we should learn how to deal with that anger when we are young. For some, anger is used as an excuse to be violent towards others. For others, anger causes raised voices and sometimes hurtful exchanges. For me, anger has become something which I am so afraid of that I strive not to show anger to others resulting in me turning it in on myself.
It's not easy to change things that have been part of me for 50 years. But I am working to make that change and that is why I can say
Psychotherapy is not for the faint-hearted. In order to help one to make progress you have to commit to it wholeheartedly and invariably this means you will enter territory that you would rather avoid. This is not a new experience for me having undertaken a year of psychodynamic psychotherapy from May 2008 to May 2009. I learnt a lot about myself during that year and I had to delve back into my early life to find the triggers that had made me the person that I was and helped to explain why, having become so depressed, I was finding it so difficult to return to a normal happy life.
A more CBT approach is being taken with the psychotherapy that I am currently undergoing. the main aim of this therapy is to get me to stop the self-destructive pattern of anger suppression that I developed as a young child, with the aim that I learn to express my anger in a normal manner rather than turning it in on myself.
Deliberately trying to invoke a feeling of anger in someone cannot be easy, yet that is what my therapist has been doing over recent weeks. Today, he managed to bring about such anger in me that it was a physically painful experience for me. For the first time I realised just how much I had been turning that anger back in on myself and the the harm it has done. For the first time I realised how much it had affected my emotions over the years and how much and how often I had given way even when I knew I was in the right because I didn't want to get angry.
Anger is a normal emotion. There will always be thing that make us angry and we should learn how to deal with that anger when we are young. For some, anger is used as an excuse to be violent towards others. For others, anger causes raised voices and sometimes hurtful exchanges. For me, anger has become something which I am so afraid of that I strive not to show anger to others resulting in me turning it in on myself.
It's not easy to change things that have been part of me for 50 years. But I am working to make that change and that is why I can say
Psychotherapy is hard.
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