Does DBT Work For Me? So Far, Part 1

#WorkForHappy

This is a series in which I talk about my experience with DBT. I am not naming any names or institutions that the therapy is associated with. I am not a professional in this field, this is all purely based on my experience and impressions. If you are interested in DBT or other therapies, please talk about it to a medical professional. 

So… I’ve been put into a therapy group. I know, I can’t believe it either.

I was told by my psychiatrist that DBT, or Dialectical Behavioral Therapy, would probably benefit me more than medication could. I was skeptical. I’d been a part of group therapy before, and I hated it. Absolutely detested it. In fact, not even a month after I finished my first group therapy course with flying colors at 16, I ended up getting hospitalized. It didn’t help whatsoever.

Expressing these concerns earned me a chuckle from my psychiatrist.

“Maybe you just weren’t ready to be a part of group therapy. Do you think you’re in a different place than you were when you were 16?”

…Yes.

“Do you think you still have trouble handling intense emotions and distress?”

I mean… I do.

“Are you trying your hardest to develop the ability to deal with those emotions?”

I am.

“Then why not give it a go? It can’t hurt to try.”

sinashagrai1
Artwork by Sina Shagrai

I guess not. Maybe the difference between me and the person I was five years ago is that I am actually willing to get better. Back then, I found those sessions insulting to my intelligence. I had certain ideas of grandeur back then, that I knew everything and that therapists were just over-qualified life coaches. I couldn’t be fixed, I thought.

Now I’m an adult… I guess? It’s hard to say.

Nonetheless, I agreed. I applied, and I got in.

Turns out, DBT is nothing like I thought it would be. I’m going to be completely frank and absolutely transparent as I journal MY experience with DBT, my highs and lows, and whether or not it might be right for you.

This is my first week in DBT. Spoiler, it wasn’t what I was expecting..

Continue reading “Does DBT Work For Me? So Far, Part 1”

Advertisements

E.X.P.E.R.I.E.N.C.E.

What is human experience? Has it become a competition of who can see, feel, and be more? What, then, qualifies as experience? What are we trying to attain by the end of our mayfly lives?

Do we regard travel as experience? Is there a list of landmarks in order of most important to most beautiful?

Is it pain? Is it difficulty? Is it the ability to say ‘gosh that sounds hard, but I have it harder!’?

Color, light, petals, spices, crackling laughter… dark, dust, tragedy, broken glass, broken hearts. What of these two opposite sides of a spectrum cultivates our souls and comes together in a jar of airborne telegram letters which together spell E.X.P.E.R.I.E.N.C.E.?

Learning. It is learning. Experience exists both in our mistakes and double takes. It dwells in the corners of the world and the blood-splattered walls. It passes time bathing in the light of distant lands and in the bitterness of someone else’s breakfast. We are curious,and the feast of curiosity is learning. The best meals count as experience.

We are passengers seated between shoulder blades, walking the beast we call Earth like it is still, as it too shoots through dark space on a long unending journey.We gaze at the stars and trace them into the lines of our hands, comparing the wisdom we pretend they share.

If our lives must be storybooks, we have to keep it interesting, so that we, the reader, don’t get too bored. Our story must be worth its usually abrupt ending, satisfied by its ups and downs, content with the paper-cuts it leaves.

How do we achieve this?

Experience.

Germs

The peculiar sensation of being sick.

Now, I realize that the topic of malady has been suggested and turned and simmered and digested enough by everyone, especially for anyone currently in the northern hemisphere. But I do believe that if I don’t effectively purge my system of the somber and miscellaneous reaction to feeling ill, I’m pretty sure I just might explode into a horrible, comical, quite heated rant that will never end.

Continue reading “Germs”