I’ve always loved going to counseling, but in the past few years I haven’t had any luck connecting. I also just had general issues that I couldn’t exactly identify. I wasn’t clinically depressed or anxious, I wasn’t grieving, my marriage wasn’t on the rocks, and I wasn’t facing a health or substance abuse crisis. I just wanted to return to talk therapy to figure out why I was not feeling joyful. I tried a few in-person clinicians, but one knew my sister-in-law so that was weird and another wanted to sell me a workbook program. I tried one of those heavily advertised virtual companies and didn’t click with either of the therapists I was assigned to. They were nice people, but I felt a little judged and burdensome. I tried some online therapy sites where you go into chat rooms that are supposed to be like support groups, but they were dreadful. People just write random stuff, mostly with poor grammar and punctuation, and I lost interest. I even tried a bot counselor, but after 10 minutes, they tell you they’ve reached the limit of their interaction. Bummer, because the bots were better than the humans.
Time went by and I felt pretty good. I retired and got somewhat adjusted, started socializing more, and stepped up my workout routine. Then this happened, this estrangement. It was like I mistakenly walked down a dark alley and was kicked in the stomach from someone in the shadows. I tried to do my same old thing–get up, dust myself off, and get out of there. But estrangement doesn’t work that way. It has consumed me.
I read everything, connect with people more about this—even confided in another friend who’s going through her own hellish estrangement. I’ve attended informative zoom meetings put on by estranged parents groups. I’ve listened to podcasts and watched online reels on the subject. But I realized that I need it to be really personal—all about me and my particular situation. I’m tired of talking about it with my husband, because he thinks he’s in the same situation. Not true and not possible. He talks to his kids every day, even if he doesn’t understand them. While my older daughter has been somewhat communicative, my formerly troubled teen daughter has abandoned me completely and I’m suffering. I just don’t always show it.
I did some research and found a therapist that I think is going to be good for me. I don’t know why; can’t put my finger on it, but she’s intelligent and seems to relate to certain parts of my story. She’s pointed out the concept of radical acceptance, which encourages you to acknowledge situations you can’t control without judgment to ease your emotional distress and suffering. We’ve had a few sessions already, and I look forward to continuing.
One thing she pointed out after scoring my answers to an intake sheet is that I’m on the borderline for PTSD. That was shocking at first, but I think it makes sense. According to the American Psychological Association, trauma is defined this way: Any disturbing experience that results in significant fear, helplessness, dissociation, confusion, or other disruptive feelings intense enough to have a long-lasting negative effect on a person’s attitudes, behavior, and other aspects of functioning. As she and I go through my back story, even though I’ve been vomiting words, I’m discovering events that could be considered traumatic that I’ve packed away and never faced wholly. Either I was too busy doing my life or didn’t know how to deal with the situation or I didn’t know I had something to deal with. And then when my daughters both suddenly disconnected with me, the shock of it was beyond traumatic. Even the bit of relief I feel with being in light communication with my older daughter hasn’t mitigated that.
Please, therapist, please help me get through this.