The Shitty Therapist - Corona - Part III of ?

There comes a point where you know something is wrong and you need to seek help. 

I figured my tipping point was sleeping a total of three hours in the span of four days.

One of the things that makes therapy useful is a relationship.  There needs to be trust and understanding.

Knowing that this was essential, I tried to look up my former therapist from Las Vegas, only to find that she has left practice. 

I decided to do a telehealth session with a random therapist from the interwebs.  My insurance covers several free sessions, so I figured I didn't have much to lose.

I had a virtual appointment this morning with Dr. WTF (name changed, of course).

Our session began with me outlining what brought me to our appointment. 

The lack of sleep.

The feelings of isolation.

The lack of optimism.

The feeling that I'm always one minor mishap away from losing all control emotionally.

Dr. WTF nodded as I described my current state.   She fidgeted with her pen a few times, scribbled something, and then tried to make eye contact through the computer.

"Have you considered the benefits of exercise?"

I blinked and made a face of some sort.

"Have you been engaging in physical activity?"

I sighed. Here I am, sitting at my desk in shorts still damp from my morning run, looking for some sort of great insight and this person is asking me if I know about the benefits of exercise.

I must have paused too long.

"What have you been doing to relieve stress?" Dr. WTF inquired.

"Well, I just got in the door from a four mile run right before our appointment," I answered with a tone of annoyance in my voice.

This wasn't what I wanted to talk about.

I wanted to talk about how I feel angry most of the time.  A level of anger that frightens me.

I'm mad that there are people in our world who don't take the coronavirus seriously.

I'm mad that there isn't enough dialogue in our society about the impact of ongoing social isolation.

It's become a joke. (Ya'll extroverts just need to calm down.  Ya know?)

Or expressing a desire to go back to normal is greeting with some sort of moral scolding.  (You are so selfish wanting to go back to normal.   You just want to go back to a place where your privilege and income lets you ignore the problems of others.)

"You should consider naming things you are grateful for," Dr. WTF rambled.  She said some other things leading up to this suggestion, but they were lost in me rehashing a moment where I nearly lost it on a fellow park-goer this morning.

"I'm glad I still have a job.  I have an income and a home.  These are things to be grateful for, but I don't think a lack of gratitude is the reason I'm here today."

"Are you familiar with the Four Agreements..."

"I'm concerned that I'm very angry right now.  I'm afraid something will happen and I won't be able to control it.  I'm not sleeping.  I am having trouble focusing, which is interfering with my work and my ability to do things I enjoy, like reading."

"A lot of this has to do with mindset...," Dr. WTF trailed off as I muted her.

Am I really going to reach my breaking point and have the angry meltdown that I have feared for ninr weeks in the middle of a conversation with a therapist?

Dr. WTF stopped speaking.  I unmuted her and stared at the screen.

"Gregory..."

"I didn't catch the question, I'm sorry."

"What can you commit to to lessen the stress in your life?"

"I. Ummmm..."

"Perhaps regular exercise.  Set a goal each day."

"Ok."

"You'll get a link in your email to set up our next appointment."

I closed the window and got the ping on my phone notifying me of my options.

I swiped and trashed the message.

I walked the three feet to my bed and sobbed ugly sobs.  The ugly, terrible sobs that I've become all too good at in the past nine weeks.  But they couldn't last too long.  I had a conference call in ten minutes.

I tried to find a way to help myself and it failed.

I just had a conversation with the human equivalent of the "Hang In There!" kitty poster and all want to do is let go of that branch for shits and giggles.

I wanted to talk about being angry and the feeling that I'm being constantly scolded for far too many voices.  I didn't get my chance.

Perhaps I should consider some fucking exercise.