Tired of Talking

Today was my first appointment with the new psychologist – again.  I’m hoping this will be ‘the one’ because I’m getting tired of explaining what is bothering me.  I know that’s the point of getting therapy, but I keep having to start from the beginning over and over.

When I first went to the doctor a few years ago to ask for help, I had to explain everything that was upsetting me and making life difficult.  

She forwarded me to the mean and nasty ‘Lose weight or go back to Canada’ guy, who I had to repeat it all to.

Then I gave up.

A few years later I had to go through it all again with my doctor. 

She forwarded me to the person who replaced the mean guy.  I had to tell her the entire thing from the beginning so she could go and tell the board of shrinks.

When she got back to me she told me about a place here in the south of Rotterdam with psychologists, and also set me up with a therapist that comes to the house.

The lady came to the house and she was very very nice.  I went through the whole thing with her and after a few visits she decided that their services weren’t what I needed.  They were meant more for women who are shut ins and don’t like to leave the house, have a lot of social anxiety and that sort of thing.  She wasn’t a therapist, but rather someone who helps people get out there in society again.   That wasn’t one of my issues.  She was very nice but we agreed that it was a waste of her time to continue with our visits.

I got an appointment with the psychologist office here in Rotterdam that the other lady told me about.   The psychologist I saw was very young and seemed to be quite new in the profession.   I wasn’t sure how I felt about that but once again I answered the same questions, trying to make sure I didn’t leave anything out.   I was sent home with a thick stack of papers with questions I had to answer about everything from my childhood, my marriage, my relationship with my parents and my husband’s parents, my sex life and every other area of my life.  I answered them all at length and got it all out on paper, which took me quite a long time and was very draining mentally.

When I went back to see her she went through the questions and asked me about them, so I felt like I was answering them again, even though the answers were right in front of her on the paper.   She then explained to me that she usually deals with children and juveniles but she spoke with a colleague who has more experience and she wants to take over my treatment.   WHY she felt the need to have me explain everything again when she knew she was passing me off, I don’t know.   She said she would give all the info to the other lady before my next appointment.

Today I saw her colleague who was quite a bit older and made me feel a little bit more confident in her abilities… but she seemed to know nothing about me.   After seeing her younger co-worker twice, explaining my issues to her twice AND writing it all out on paper, I just didn’t get why I had to explain it all again!   I did though, for the *counts on fingers* 8th time I started from the very beginning again.  

The story of my troubles here in Holland, inside my head, and with my husband’s family are starting to get a bit like that Rihanna song My Umbrella, it’s been played so damn much I’m sick of hearing it.   I don’t know if this is the usual chain of events when someone is trying to seek help or what but I’m starting to feel a bit like a hot potato.  I keep getting tossed around but nobody holds on.

I want someone to take me to the next level.  Instead of them just listening to what is wrong, go more in depth and help me figure out why it’s wrong and how to fix it.  I need to learn how to change the way I think, how to not let certain situations and people in my life affect me as strongly as they do, and help me make sense of the things that are confusing me.  

My ‘task’ given to me by the lady today is to write down all of the things I want to change about myself and my life.  Uhh, didn’t I write pages about that in the papers her colleague gave me?  What the hell happened to those?  I answered that very question with the younger girl, she took notes, didn’t she pass them on?   Jesus Christ, if they don’t know what is wrong and what I want to change by now, are they ever going to?

This is so frustrating… I’m tired of talking about what bothers me, it just makes me cry and gives me a headache for the rest of the day.  I thought that by now I’d be at least a few steps towards starting to understand myself and where my life is heading, but instead I just keep being pushed back to the start.    I’m not sure how much longer I can keep on with this feeling of treading water and not getting anywhere.  I’m tired.