My therapist doesn’t really give me advice. She has a certain way of talking, looking at me, having a certain body language that either provokes me or inspires me - or my subconsciousness - to come up with alternate solutions, ways of thinking, behaviors and whatnot. Only when I’m apathetic, catatonic, having a panic attack or otherwise incapacitated does she actively provide concrete advice.

At first, I wanted to punch her in her above-it-all stuck up face, but two years later, I’m so grateful for her and her methodology. She has helped me developed my introspective skills. She has helped me heighten my senses so that I can feel such small changes in my mood that I otherwise wouldn’t have been able to notice.

With that out of the way, these are some of the most miraculous moments that I have had with her:

1. we were in the midst of recreating a traumatic episode from my childhood. My mind - but really I, myself - was there and then. Just as I finished reliving the moment of abuse and I was crying to the point of hyperventilation, I heard my therapist’s voice saying, extremely quietly and gently, although not whispering: “if I would’ve been there, I would’ve said, that *** (the abusive action) is not okay.” This was so healing. All my life (30+ years), I had carried the burden of believing that I am stupid, ugly and worthless because of this episode. This is the first time anybody told me otherwise.
2. she helped me visualize and understand that my childhood trauma is a constant/static element, which is not changeable, and that my current health is made up of variables/dynamic elements, which are changeable. This was such a eureka moment, because it made me realize, that I should work on stopping fighting the child in within. He, my history, is not “the enemy”. What I want to change is how I feel about or relate to him in the present and future.

Ground yourself. No not in the childcare and electrical sense

So I have mild PTSD and I was advised to, when feeling like everything was spiraling, to immediately focus on something like the weight and feel of my boots or the feeling of the seat under my butt.

First she is a safe place where I’m not only encouraged to share vulnerable things, it’s where hiding things is actively against the effort. Frees me, mentally, to actually speak.

Second, she’s really good at gently nudging me out of my loops. I’ve contemplated my issues to hell, back, and again. She’s really good at finding me an off ramp.

Finally, after I was sexually assaulted, she’s been unquantifiable helpful. She answered honestly about things such as police reports and what I could expect (my case was unlikely to get the time of day, which I expected), strategies to address my recurring problems, and just being a decent human that judges me far less harshly than myself.

Here’s my take: therapy only works if you give yourself over to it. That is to say, you have to be committed to take the advice that your therapist gives you, regardless of whether or not you (in the moment) believe it or not*.

You also have the right, and expectation, to push back. But, you have to do it in good faith. If you do the work, and take their advice, and it genuinely isn’t working for you no matter ho hard you try, tell them it isn’t working and what you’ve done.

I’ve been in therapy for almost 3 years now. It’s done wonders. But it’s been a long, difficult, and often painful journey. My therapist and I have had our moments. It happens. But we both kept at it, and I actually feel like a “normal” person for once.

Also: if you genuinely feel like you’re not connecting with your therapist, then don’t be shy about it. Let them know, and go find someone else. Don’t settle for someone just because you think you can’t do better or that you don’t deserve better.

* Obviously don’t do anything that would cause you or others harm.

Short answer: Try medication (which worked)

Long answer:

I have clinically diagnosed depression, Major Depressive Disorder. Known it from first year of college, symptoms started way earlier probably around middle school

Psychologist from a few years ago recommended me to read the Feeling Good Handbook. I ended up reading the entire thing end-to-end… Most of it I don’t really recall anymore at this point. But the book did mention about how there are two gold-standard forms of therapy: “talk-therapy” (usually what psychologists do, most popular one I think is CBT), and antidepressants/medication. And the people who respond most effectively to these two options are almost anti-correlative with each other

It turned out I was among the smaller group of people who don’t respond very well (if at all) to talk therapy, but respond very well to medication. I was quite mentally against antidepressants up until that point, but I decided to just bite the bullet and give it a shot… So I talked with my psychologist, who then connected me with a psychiatrist who helped me get a prescription for Fluoxetine (Prozac) and monitored my progress every 2-3 months. It was basically a miracle drug for me. MDD can’t be cured, but me taking prescribed antidepressants, along with me getting adopted by two cats at that time, almost “cured” my depression for good. I was on a very low dose too, only 10-20 mg/d

But to echo what others have said. Therapy is work. I was very committed to finding an intervention. Even though CBT didn’t work very well I still managed to visit my psychologist every month and self-reflect afterwards, and that continued several years onwards even when most of my symptoms were greatly reduced after medication. No one forced me to read through a several hundred page book either, or to overcome my mental barrier of taking medication… I chose to partake these actions on my own

But yeah I think therapy does work if one is willing to put the effort into it

Learned to recognize and preempt shame spirals before they dragged me down into depression. Made a world of difference.

None. I was the one usually giving motivational thoughts and words Then J. showed up. J was an abused woman, about age 26, burned with kerosene on her chest… ☹️

I learned something that day, things could be way worse.

I hope J. is doing good these days…