There’s nothing quite like spilling all your secrets to a complete stranger. It can be liberating … or it can be terrifying. Plus, going through your HMO’s provider book isn’t going to tell you what you want to know about the therapist you’ll be working with. I’ve been seeing therapists on-and-off for a decade and a half now, and I’ve learned a bit about shopping for a new one on the way. Here’s how it goes… Keep reading »
The first psychiatrist (“shrink”) I ever saw helped me through a rough time by prescribing me an anti-depressant. I figured I’d be on it short term until I was in a better place. That shrink took my health insurance. I didn’t realize how lucky I was.
Little did I know that once I relocated and needed to find a new doctor, I’d have a better chance of finding a unicorn with a prescription pad than a decent shrink who’d accept my insurance. Keep reading »
A few months ago my fiancée and I watched an episode of “Thirtysomethings” when Elliot and Nancy start seeing a marriage counselor. At first they are both embarrassed and ashamed, and neither wants their circle of friends to know. But as it goes in a television show, the secret gets out and they both feel like crap.
Call me a stereotypical New Yorker, but I love therapy and never understood why people are embarrassed or ashamed about it. I also never got why people wait until they feel like breaking up to start couples’ therapy. Therapy got me through adolescence, depression, disorder, and my relationship with my fiancée. Keep reading »
We’ve been seeing each other for years; short, weekly sessions that often leave me enlightened, teary-eyed, or with a skip in my step. Ours is one of the most gratifying relationships I’ve ever had, defined by an openness and comfort level that allows for complete honesty. It took a little while to get there and I was certainly guarded at first, but now? Well, I wouldn’t know where I would be without her.
She’s my therapist. She knows everything about me. But sometimes I wish I knew more about her. Keep reading »
Twenty-four year old New York City shrink, Sarah White, felt there was something missing from the classical therapy tradition. And that thing was getting buck naked. According to her, talking about your problems while fully clothed encourages repression instead of open expression. That’s how she became “the naked therapist.” Sarah begins her sessions, which occur via webcam, Skype, or in person, fully clothed and by the end of the hour she is in her birthday suit. (Video is slightly NSFW.) Not surprisingly, she has lots of male clients, who, she claims, find it easier to introspect while watching her strip down to her skivies. Duh. Of course she has her male clients’ full attention while she’s naked. SHE’S NAKED! A guy will say just about anything you want him to while sitting across from an attractive woman in the buff. Keep reading »
I came to a new understanding about myself recently. At my session last week, after hearing me go on and on about a recent bout of man-related depression, my therapist cut me off with a revelation. “You know what you are?” Dr. A said. “You’re an extreme emotions junkie. Some people are adrenaline junkies — they get off of some sort of thrill, like jumping out of a plane — but you get off on feeling really good or really bad. It’s what makes you feel the most vibrant, the most alive.” Keep reading »
You know what sounds like a terrible idea? At-home electroshock therapy. But according to The Daily Beast, this isn’t as terrifying as it sounds. Writer Casey Schwartz decided to test the Fisher Wallace Cranial Stimulator, which claims to target the limbic system and stimulate the release of dopamine and serotonin. The thing looks like a remote control with two electrodes you attach to your forehead, and could potentially help with depression, anxiety, insomnia, OCD, drug addictions, and post-traumatic stress disorder. And interestingly, Casey kind of liked the device. Keep reading »
“Aaron misses you and can’t live without you,” was Dr. W’s first line at our first session.
I turned to my handsome, curly haired off-and-on beau of six years, sitting beside me on the couch of Dr. W’s office. I’d left Aaron because he couldn’t commit. Yet after three months apart, he coerced me to a couples session with his new therapist, Dr. W, “just for closure.”
“He’s so happy you could make it here today,” Dr. W added.
“And who are you, Cyrano de Bergerac?” I asked. Read more … Keep reading »
With the movie “The Social Network” debuting last week amid much hype, I find myself with an interesting Facebook-induced dilemma: whether or not to “friend” my therapist. We’ve never met in person, yet her perky face keeps popping up on my computer screen. Keep reading »
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