I watched a YouTube video the other day by a sweet young woman who wanted to get a message across about toxic therapists and how to recognize them and recover from them. I’ve added the link because she didn’t have many views and it’s an important topic. Her story stirred up memories of my own toxic therapist and I thought sharing might help others too.
It was shortly after the beginning of Covid-19. I had been struggling and knew I needed someone I could talk to. I could talk to my psychiatrist a bit on the phone but that’s not his primary focus. His job is to assess his clients mental health and devise a treatment plan (then maintain it). I needed someone who would work with me through past trauma. My psychiatrist suggested a therapist who worked in the hospital as a therapist and had for years. That sounded reassuring and reliable so I agreed.
My first phone session was a case history with no mention on what we would focus on. I had a month until my next appointment and felt like I’d been left dangling, with no direction to aim. In the next session he did have ideas for me to focus on, namely my anxiety and agoraphobia. I had another, more pressing concern.
“I think I hate myself,” I admitted. I wasn’t sure what to expect but I figured he’d want to address the root cause and help me improve my self esteem. That makes sense, right? His attitude was, meh, just make a new you. I was to discard the old me then look at the people around me, gather the bits I liked, and connect them together, like I was some sort of depressed jigsaw puzzle. I didn’t know what to think. I was walking the tightrope between major depression and being actively suicidal. I didn’t have a self esteem. My first thought was that he felt I was too broken to even attempt fixing. My second was a faint voice saying that everyone is broken in some way and I most certainly could fix myself without yeeting my whole essence out a proverbial window. Thankfully I listened to the second voice. I’ve learned, over the years, to listen to that voice. Each time I didn’t it’s ended up disastrous.
He moved on to tell me that people prefer pleasure over pain. I did not call him Captain Obvious when he said this. But then he began talking to me about friendship and how a deep friendship included confidences which could be sad. That sadness was painful and would break the friendship apart, leading to more pain on both sides. It was much better to have casual, social friendships like fellow members in a bowling league. All the conversations were superficial so there wouldn’t be any pain. I literally did not know what to say to him. I know now what I didn’t know then, that I’m an aromantic asexual (no spellcheck, I am not a lovely fragrance). I need strong, deep friendships. The session ended with me still trying to figure out what to say.
This time there was to be a two month wait between sessions. I, once again, was left with nothing to work on… unless he seriously meant for me to spend that time with metaphorical glue and scissors, building myself a new me. Then I got a call from his secretary saying that the therapist was ill and, considering his age, wasn’t likely to return. I thanked her and moved on to rediscovering myself and learning to like myself. Then I got another call, over half a year later, saying that he was returning briefly to give closure to a few select people. I was in that group despite having barely worked with him. A former friend of mine also had him for a therapist. She was devastated that he was retiring and desperately wished she could have one last session with him so she could say goodbye. I did not (and have not) let her know that I was getting that last session.
I wasn’t sure what to expect with the appointment, it had been so long and I’d honestly never thought I’d speak to him again. The very first thing he did was to ask me how my homework went. I was speechless for a few moments (which is a long time for me) then I admitted I had completely forgot about any homework. Most people would remind me about the homework was and possibly even work on it together, but not him. He immediately started tell me about one of his clients, by first name, and all her myriad issues before telling me that her only problem was she didn’t want to help herself and, thus, stagnated. Then he started talking about another client… and another. They were all women and all had been his client for at least twenty years. I was absolutely shocked he would tell me so much information about other clients and how he thought of them with such disdain. Then he said, “You’re just like them.”
“No I’m not,” I protested angrily. “I’ve started zoom mental health classes and zoom chair exercises. I made friends with the woman across the hall and found a walking buddy. We walk several times a week including at a conservation area. I’ve even figured out my local bus route.”
He interrupted me. “Those don’t matter, not of that matters.”
“But they do matter! They’re all things I’ve done to improve myself –”
He interrupted me again, “They don’t matter because I didn’t assign them to you. They only matter if I told you to do it.”
I was stunned by his hubris so stayed silent. He then went on to suggest the website he created, which also contained his books. My opinion of his ego ratcheted up even higher and I began wondering how him and his ego fit through doorways.
“I think it would be good if I booked you another session.”
I spluttered, trying frantically to think of a plausible reason to say no. “Oh thanks but it’s okay. I’m getting lots of help through my groups. Thanks for the offer.”
Thankfully he was fine with that and I was done with that short, weird version of therapy.
I have never joined a bowling league and I did not jury rig myself a new me. And all the women who saw him for 20+ years and didn’t know what to do with themselves never knew the disdain he had for them.
There are good therapists and there are bad ones. And there are ones that are good but simply don’t mesh with you. It’s fine to ask for a new therapist and it’s also fine to report their insensitive ass if they breach confidentiality. The only reason I didn’t with him was he was in his 80’s and in the process of retiring. And, honestly, if your therapist is hot garbage and you have no other options for a new one, you could be better off with YouTube while watching professionals like Kati Morton, Dr. Tracey Marks, and Brene Brown. While they can’t replace actual therapy, they’re better than nothing. Your self esteem is fragile enough without having someone grind it into the dirt. I have a good therapist now and have for over a year. I hope you find one too.
Because I'm Fabulous 