Why We Fear Psychotherapy

In general we consult a psychotherapist as a last resort, when we’re unhappy depressed, lost… Facing ourselves takes courage. The process is frightening. We don’t know what we’ll learn about ourselves, our lives,  other people.

The exploration of the psyche can be as unpredictable as a mission to outer space or as mysterious as plumbing the ocean depths.

What will we have to/or decide to change? As I mentioned in an earlier blog (November 25, 2011) change doesn’t come naturally to us humans.

A psychologist colleague of mine began psychotherapy as part of his training. In his first session, he said to his psychotherapist, “I am a happily married man with children. Just don’t upset my marriage or family life.”

 (What do you think happened?)

As a pathologist, I was frustrated and dissatisfied because I felt under-utilized, more like a technician than a thinking person intrigued with the creativity of the human mind. As a psychotherapist, everything one learns has the potential to add to the therapeutic armamentarium.

Unmoored in my professional and personal life, I knew I needed psychoanalysis. I was fortunate that the process would also increase my therapeutic ability to help others.

The psychotherapist’s office is intended to be a safe environment. Here thoughts, feelings, dreams, goals can be explored without the fear of condemnation or judgment.

The psychotherapist has nothing to win or lose from the relationship in which the boundaries are clear. (Please refer to my blog of February 3, 2012 for a discussion of Boundaries). The contract is simple: the client has an appointment and pays for the time.

In the safe, accepting environment of the therapist’s office, defenses can be dropped and true feelings and thoughts acknowledged and explored.

In cognitive behavioral therapy, a short-term talk therapy, clients confront and reframe negative beliefs, thoughts and attitudes which hinder their capacity to change. For example, “My life will always be this way because …..”

In examining relationships, we may have to face the fact that we’re attempting to change another person; we may realize that we have to change ourselves, our behavior before the other person changes.  

It took me years to understand Freud’s far-reaching comment. The goal of Psychoanalysis/psychotherapy is to convert ‘neurotic suffering to common human suffering’. Although his statement seems to endorse the negative side of existence, I’ve learned that we’re all more alike than we are different. We all harbor destructive tendencies, which I call saboteurs (see my blog of January 6, 2012).

 This knowledge can be reassuring if we think we’re alone in feelings of ambivalence or negative attributes.

If we like to think of ourselves as a ‘super-person,’ the awareness can deflate our ego and bring us down to earth.

(Can you see disadvantages and advantages in each of these positions?)

Conclusion: Psychotherapy is frightening but (most often) worth the journey.

Dear Reader: I welcome your comments. (jsimon145@gmail.com)

Money and Meaning

I hear from clients who suffer terribly from their compulsion to hoard, accumulating ‘stuff’ which clutters and overflows wardrobes and closets onto floor space. They become ashamed, don’t enjoy their homes or allow anyone to visit them.

Obviously, psychological factors interfere with recognizing the limits of our pocketbooks.  Some of us shop because of life’s frustrations, anxieties or feelings of deprivation and neglect to set long term goals.  

Ms. R. grew up with unaffectionate parents. Her father showed his caring by gifting her coins from his shop’s cash register. In her mind, money and love became inextricably linked. She believed someone would rescue her and allow her to continue to live in New York when she spent beyond her budget. (What do you think happened?)

Witness the article on page one of The New York Times ( January 31, 2012);    Anita Collins, a 67-year-old woman  stole over a million dollars from the Archdiocese of New York to buy expensive dolls and stuffed bears while she lived modestly in a $1400 a month apartment in Queens.  Clearly she didn’t need boxes of dolls for her physical survival. More than likely, feelings of deprivation motivated her criminal behavior.

We’re bombarded with a multiplicity of new products and gadgets all the time. Advertising is a big industry in our Capitalist society and supports conspicuous consumption.

(We assume there isn’t any other way but I’ve heard that the Scandinavian countries are different. The Nordic Model or mixed-market economy allows for free, privatized trade while emphasizing strong public services such as universal healthcare and education.)

We don’t have to spend lots on clothing or health products. Some important items are relatively inexpensive, and there are several substitutions which help us save money.

Knock offs, sales, and consignment shops to purchase an elegant yet inexpensive wardrobe.   Fake furs, leather and diamonds possess “bling” too and may be more durable than the genuine materials.

Although I’ve experienced feelings of deprivation, I’ve come to appreciate (through living and psychotherapy)  the frugality of my father who grew up in the Great Depression of 1929.   Discovering bargains and attending cultural events (theatre, poetry readings and concerts) give me pleasure beyond the accumulation of ‘stuff.’ 

The best things in life are still free. Love of nature, rewarding relationships, gratitude. (Please refer to my blog on Giving and Gratitude (December 16, 2011).

Conclusion: Exploring the sources of frustration, anxiety or deprivation and setting priorities ultimately gratify beyond accumulating 'stuff' and over-spending.

Dear Reader: I welcome your comments. (jsimon145@gmail.com)

A Valentine for Dead Parents (poem)

Passing through doors

Entering, exiting rooms

Walls of mirrors

in an old house

Days of carnivals

coats of black-

silver paint, peeling

the torrent

of complaint

the movie reel rolls

petty angers  

yellow disappointments

the daughter passes

through  a turnstile

of blue time

eyes embrace

arms behold

  

a broad space

high ceilings of

real red love 

Dear Reader: I welcome your comments. (jsimon145@gmail.com)

Comparisons are often Odious

Each of us is a unique person with our own set of talents.
We’re most content in life if we work on developing our gifts, whatever they are - writing, painting, sewing, cooking, teaching, etc.

We get in trouble when we compare ourselves unfavorably with another person whose path, by the very Nature of Our Uniqueness, is different. Peter Shaffer’s classic play, Amadeus, a fictionalized version of Mozart and Saliere’s relationship, explores this very problem as its protagonist, composer Antonio Saliere, grows increasingly tormented by comparing himself to the genius Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.Amadeus: A Play by Peter Shaffer


Many of us want to share our story - sharing is indeed vital for the individual – but we don’t have to write the great American novel, nor to become preoccupied with book sales, to do it.

We all eventually face Death, and many of us think about what we’ll be remembered for. Yet no one really knows. No one can accurately predict what will endure through the ages.

Emily Dickinson, considered the Mother of American Poetry, was unrecognized during her lifetime for the enormous impact of her innovative writing. {For a story of her life and poetry see Susan Howe’s seminal work, My Emily Dickinson (North Atlantic Books, 1985) }My Emily Dickinson (New Directions Paperbook)


Fame during one’s lifetime is not an accurate predictor either. (An example is writer William Saroyan, greatly popular during the 1930s and 40s for his fictive but realistic portrayals of the average American. At his height, his greatest work The Human Comedy was made into a major motion picture starring Mickey Rooney. Saroyan’s name is rarely recognized today.)Human Comedy (HBJ Modern Classic)

Conclusion: We would do well to develop our unique gifts and talents to the fullest without comparing ourselves to others.

What’s essential is not (primarily) fame or money, but the process which allows us to explore and our unique talents to flourish. Telling the story is vital to the individual and hopefully (though not predictably) it may be for others too.

Dear Reader: I welcome your comments. (jsimon145@gmail.com)

The Benefit of Boundaries

Walking along Columbus Avenue, I overhear a young woman speaking loudly on the phone. “Well,” she says, “I don’t think it’s me.” (Meaning the stimulus doesn’t originate from her but from another person – or the environment.)

In my mind, her expression of doubt brings up the huge question of boundaries. It is common for us to be confused, to be unsure if a feeling, thought or action stems from oneself or another person. How can we recognize the difference between what happens to us inside or outside our heads?

Pulitzer-winning writer John Steinbeck recognized this confusion when he said, "I discovered long ago in collecting and classifying marine animals that what I found was closely intermeshed with how I felt at the moment. External reality has a way of not being so external after all."

At the most extreme example of this confusion between the physical and the psychological is the schizophrenic who can’t distinguish between thoughts coming from the environment or from within his own head. To make matters more complicated, he may also believe that his thoughts are broadcast to the environment. Tragically, in some cases, he doesn’t take medication to help because he can’t acknowledge the problem is his. It is a ghastly, isolating way to live!

Sorting out these kinds of boundaries is vital to our interpersonal relationships. The problem is that the task can be enormously complicated and time-consuming. And life rarely allows the opportunity. I consider the time to meditate or cogitate on these matters a luxury.

I remember a transforming session over thirty years ago when my psychoanalyst, Dr. Portnoy, pointed out my confusion about inner and outer reality. He cited the “lawnmower story” as an example of the problem:

A man finds his lawn in dire need of trimming, but his mower is broken. The man must now ask to borrow his neighbor’s lawnmower. He walks a few minutes to the neighbor’s door and by the time he arrives, he’s ready to punch the neighbor in the nose. Why? Because he has been telling himself (before even asking) that he KNOWS the neighbor will NOT agree to lend his mower. All this dialogue going on within the man’s own mind, totally unrelated to any attributes of his neighbor.

When Dr. Portnoy told me this story, I realized a lot of dialogue was going on in my head that was totally unrelated to my environment and circumstances of the moment.

Conclusion: Boundaries are vital to human interaction and productive functioning but may take time and energy to sort out.

Recognizing the complexity and the universality of the problem can be reassuring.

Dialoguing with others to gather various opinions can be helpful.

Keeping a journal to record events and questions about events and interactions of the day can help sort out confusion.

As it was in my case, a course of psychotherapy may be necessary.

Dear Reader: I welcome your comments. (jsimon145@gmail.com)