THERAPY ANGST

I finally did it. I quit therapy. This was not a decision I made rashly. In fact, it was something that I had been contemplating for months, after having been in the process of analysis and self-reflection for many years. Week after week, check after check, I would sit down with a therapist (the person changed a few times over the years) and dwell on my angst. Unfortunately for me, focusing on my angst only seemed to increase it, rather than diminish it, which I never imagined would happen when I embarked on this expensive and intensive journey.

I initially sought therapy for a few reasons. I was in graduate school getting a master’s degree in clinical social work and I was beginning to work with clients at my first internship. It is a common practice for therapists to get their own therapy in order to increase their self-awareness to become more useful to their clients. My problem was, I actually needed less self-awareness. I am a natural born ruminator and dweller on my problems. I have never had difficulty identifying my issues. My challenge is translating that awareness into positive change.

I also sought therapy because despite the fact that I had accomplished many of my goals and my life looked really good on the outside, I still struggled with anxiety, which sprung from my need for perfection and control in all situations. It is no accident that I am Angst Mom! I told my first therapist, “I need to learn to be less hard on myself.” After four years of therapy and almost suffering a breakdown after the birth of my first child, my therapist told me, “You need to learn to be less hard on yourself.” Thank you for that insight, and can I please have my $40,000 back?

When I took an honest look at my life, I had to ask myself, “Am I really any better off now than I was before I began this process”? Sure, I can tell you exactly what in my past is triggering any specific thought, feeling, or behavior that I am currently experiencing, but is this insight really helping me in any tangible way? Or is it making me more of a victim- more apt to throw up my hands and indulge in my angst?

Are we any better off as a society, considering how “therapized” we are as a whole? Are we behaving more kindly, more decently towards ourselves and towards our fellows? Are we healthier, emotionally and physically? Are our children more well-adjusted and happier? The answer to these questions is obvious. When you look at all the indicators of personal success, it is clear that in spite of the fact that we live in a therapy-culture, we are more deranged, confused, and addicted than ever.

Ironically, I found the therapeutic relationship to be the most neurotic one in my life. Here is this person that I am supposed to trust and attach to completely, for exactly one hour a week, on a specific day and time. It is completely unnatural, and I never became keen on the idea of paying someone to act like they care about me.

All this critique of therapy may seem odd, considering I am actually a therapist by trade. I am fortunate that the agency I practiced at for most of my career, Beit T’Shuvah, a residential treatment center for Jewish addicts, has a therapeutic philosophy which makes perfect sense to me. The spiritual Director of Beit T’Shuvah, Rabbi Mark Borovitz, has a famous quote, “Fuck your feelings.” Not only is this sentiment profound in its inherent folk wisdom, it also makes me giddy to hear my rabbi curse.

“Fuck your feelings” has become a life philosophy for me. It doesn’t matter how anxious, depressed, or tormented I am, I still need to get out of bed and show up for life. When I am able to push through my angst and take care of my responsibilities, something magical often happens. My feelings change. Anxiety becomes quelled when I absorb myself in a useful activity. Fear transforms to courage as I face my day. Depression shifts to hope when I help someone else. Angst turns into a sense of purpose when I focus on what is in front of me.

There was a surprising benefit to quitting therapy. I suddenly had the desire and energy to write again, a passion that had been dormant for years. I have been threatening to write this blog forever, collecting ideas on little sheets of paper, but not able to ever follow through with my dream. It is as if the very process of therapy left me so emotionally depleted that there was nothing left for me to give. Now that I am no longer processing my feelings, I am able to write, create, and live with a fervor that I haven’t felt for awhile. I am able to focus on my present and on my future, rather than ruminate on the past.

There may be a time when I decide to return to therapy, and give the old self-reflection wheel another whirl. But for now, Fuck my Feelings is my credo, as I try to live usefully and contentedly in reality.