Sheilaclapkin's Blog;

I used to get the jitters once in awhile, still do. You probably do not get them, so, lucky you. I never know if they are coming, so I cannot plan for them.  I was hoping to work it out with some kind of therapy rather than drug myself into oblivion.  Going far away from home, or worry over the family is a time I have to work at calming down the symptoms of anxiety. Imagine at my age having anxiety. My life is nearly over. I should have been scared to death early on. Perhaps I was, and too involved to recognize it.  It was suggested that I try a form of therapy.  I believe it is written on my paperwork: Recovery Therapy. Recovering from fear I assumed. I made an appointment with a therapist.

The minute I walked into the door the “she” therapist handed me a box of partially used Kleenex. I said, “ I do not have a cold, is there something on my face, do I need these?”  She said, “Well you are going to cry and you will need them.”  I thought to myself then and there, no way was I going to allow myself to cry. The session began and ended with no consequences good or bad.  I did not cry and thinking back maybe I should have.

Miss K seemed like a novice in dealing with my meanderings. I was older and truly it seemed I knew more in some areas, especially the areas where I wanted to find some new connections.  If she had been more in tune, more experienced, maybe she would have been able to help me. Maybe if she hadn’t handed me Kleenex I would have been more open.  I thought perhaps I needed to go back to make sure it was not me who was blocking the therapy progress.  So, I made another appointment. I happened to pass a bakery on the way to my second appointment, so being the kind of person I am, I stopped and hand picked cookies for my family and a bag for the therapist.  When I handed her the cookies, she said,  “Oh is this a bribe? Can I expect cookies every time you come?”  Then and there, I decided there would not be a next time. She seemed so hostile.  It seemed like if I had the problem, I would not be an equal partner in my recovery. What recovery?  We are all recovering in some way or another from birth to death.  After such a traumatic thing as birth is claimed to be, I personally have no recall, the baby needs to recover.  The in between stages of living our lives is a jumbled mess of haps and mishaps, surely needing recovery. In death and dying, it all comes together in a big recovery experience and when you see the white light, “bingo” you are done.  Congratulations, you have arrived at the ultimate recovery. Your behavior heretofore has been structured and developmental, a road to personal growth, challenging, developing healthier relationships, taking responsibility for your actions and deciding to integrate all you have learned. Congratulations, you have arrived at the ultimate recovery and St. Peter is there to tell you, you are several points short, but he definitely appreciates your kind attention to the details and your dedication to recovery.

By the way, I just found out that my HMO is offering something new in recovery called Behavioral Therapy. You do not need to be referred.  You can just call and offer yourself up to this new format. Excuse me please, I do think I will pass, but I would like to know if they offer Kleenex and take cookie bribes.