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59 pages

English

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In life, there are choices. There is therapy, and there are other drugs.

Therapy and Other Drugs provides a first-hand look at mental health, substance abuse, and healing...from the therapist’s perspective. Readers will experience the raw emotions of working in the field of addiction; from relapse and overdose, to sobriety and survival.

Author Christina Brown explores the intersection between familial and professional experiences with mental health and substance abuse. Readers will gain understanding on how therapists have to simultaneously balance between taking care of others and prioritizing their own mental health. Stories of loss, heartbreak, and the perseverance of those struggling are highlighted throughout this eye-opening memoir.

Therapy and Other Drugs introduces the conversation of asking for help, even when you are the helper.

Sujets

Santé et bien-être

Santé mentale & traumatisme

Personal Memoirs

Mental Health

Sociologie, société et politique

Psychopathology

Memoir

Psychology

Addiction

Informations

Publié par	Manuscripts
Date de parution	01 mars 2023
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9798885044653
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0250€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Therapy and Other Drugs

Therapy and Other Drugs

Christina Brown, LMHC

New Degree Press
Copyright © 2023 Christina Brown, LMHC
All rights reserved.
Therapy and Other Drugs

ISBN 979-8-88504-442-4 Paperback
979-8-88504-465-3 Ebook

For the suffering. You are not alone. This one is for you.

Contents
Welcome to Therapy and Other Drugs
Fourteen Days
Pushback
Not Your Typical Therapist
Suffering in Silence
Anyone and Everyone
Milestones
The Numbing Reality
A Minute to Breathe
The Phone Call
A Work in Progress
Therapists Are Humans
An Empty Cup
Lessons Learned
There Is Always Hope
Acknowledgments
Appendix: References

Welcome to Therapy and Other Drugs
“As soon as I leave this building, I’m going to shoot myself,” are the words I hear down the hallway during my first week as a therapist. I peek my head out of my office and see police officers. They make eye contact with me and scream, “Get back in your office now!” I obey and close the door. Seconds later I hear feet shuffling in my direction. A shriek accompanied by nails scratching the outside of my office door. A click of metal handcuffs being opened and closed around what I assume is the patient’s wrist. More screaming and rustling and the sound of a stretcher being wheeled away. And then silence. I close my eyes and think, What the hell have I gotten myself into?
Substance abuse is a significant problem in the world today. Now more than ever the discussion of mental health is occurring and needs to continue to be discussed. People are more open about their struggles with mental health and addiction on social media, in movies, and on television. People, including therapists, are talking about their mental health struggles, myself included.
My path to being a therapist has not been straight. There have been bumps, mountains, and sharp curves along the way. I have felt overwhelmed, lost, scared, and have questioned how I would help my patients. I teach my patients a variety of skills to improve their mental health, but in the past, I have severely neglected to work on improving my own. I have counseled patients through their losses while I buried my grief so deep it physically ached me. I created the perfect façade to come off as someone who had their life together. I appeared to be the safe person to many because they didn’t hear the enemy in my mind.
Being a therapist and treating patients with substance use disorders is not easy. What is even harder is treating your patients while you helplessly watch someone you love fight this horrific disease. You are expected to have all the answers while inside you are slowly falling apart, and there is no one to catch you because no one knows you are suffering.
This topic of mental health and substance abuse is important to me not only because it is my career, but because it is a reality for many families, including my own. I have witnessed firsthand the disease of addiction slowly taking away people I love dearly. The blend of professional and personal knowledge helped shape this memoir. Through my familial and professional experiences with substance abuse, I want to paint a true picture of how therapists must simultaneously balance taking care of others’ and their own mental health; how addiction can happen to anyone.
These experiences have shaped me into the therapist I am today. Throughout this book you will witness my growth as not only a therapist, but also a person. In order to take you on this journey with me, I have included a few stories about my experiences working with patients. I want to make it clear the patients you will read about in this book are based off a compilation of characteristics from multiple patients. The stories are inspired by my real experiences, but the patients identified in this book are fictional. If you find yourself relating to the stories I share, this is intentional. This book is designed to be a safe place for all readers. For those who have ever felt invisible, this book is for you.
If you have ever felt alone in your struggles with mental health, this book is for you, whether you are in therapy or thinking about going to therapy or if you or a loved one struggles or have struggled with mental health or addiction. If you are interested in going into the mental health field but want to learn more about what it is like, this will surely open up your eyes. If you have ever stayed up all night waiting for the dreaded phone call telling you your loved one succumbed to their addiction, this is for you. If you are a therapist and have ever asked yourself, “Am I even helping?” this one is for you. I see you, I hear you, and to be honest, I am you.
In life, there are choices. There is therapy, and there are other drugs. I am going to show you the unfiltered version of the ins and outs of both.

Fourteen Days
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. You’re never going to last in this field. Good luck.” What encouraging first words to hear as a brand-new twenty-four-year-old therapist.
As commencement for graduate school approached, I vigilantly applied for therapist jobs. I was a broke grad student. It was time for me to move home, get a big girl job, and save some money. I went to a few job interviews before graduating. I was offered multiple job opportunities, and I ended up accepting a job at a substance abuse facility focusing on medication-assisted treatment, specifically, methadone. This job was in the town my grandparents lived in. My grandmother passed away a few weeks before graduation, so my superstitious self believed this was fate.
Before accepting this position, I had to complete the interview process. I will never forget my first time arriving at the facility where I would soon be working. I arrived at the area an hour early to ensure I was punctual. I decided to wander the TJ Maxx across the street to pass the time. My stomach was filled with butterflies because I knew I wanted this job even before interviewing. I called my dad for a little pre-interview pep talk. He reminded me I was going to be great.
“You go in there and show them who you are. You have studied hard, and you are so close to graduation. Do you have a copy of your résumé?”
“Yes, Dad, of course I do.”
“Great. You are going to be fine. Good luck, and call me after.”
After a few more laps around the store, I decided to cross the street and head over to the interview. My stomach rumbled with nerves, and my palms were sweaty. I thought, This does not look like a methadone clinic . I am not sure what I expected a “methadone clinic” to look like, but I did not expect it to look like a regular brick building with freshly manicured landscaping. The parking lot was empty, and it was quiet. I walked through the doors and found myself in a pale blue hallway with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out into a courtyard. Birds chirped outside, and there was no one in sight. I stepped farther into the building and approached the front desk.
“Hi, my name is Christina. I am here for an interview.”
The receptionist presented a warm smile and gentle tone, saying, “Welcome. I will check you in and someone will be with you shortly. Please have a seat.”
I took a seat in the large lobby. My eyes wandered, and I observed credentialing forms on the walls, stating this program met all state regulations and standards. Building inspections and licenses were all up-to-date. I even noticed a recent credentialing certificate. I wondered what it took to be a credentialed facility, but I had a feeling it was a lot of work, and this place knew what they were doing.
As I sat and waited, a patient appeared in the lobby. The patient smiled at me, then proceeded to walk past me and over to the nurses. The nursing station was behind a wall, so I could not see what was happening. After a few minutes, the patient walked out the door. A minute later, this act was repeated by multiple other patients. I quickly gathered this was where they would enter to receive their medication.
While I was observing the patients, I heard my name being called. A woman only a few years older than me walked toward me. She had on a sleek black dress with pin-straight hair. She radiated confidence from the second I met her. “Hi, Christina? I am Theresa, the program director. Nice to meet you!” I followed Theresa to her office to complete the interview process.
“Tell me, what makes you interested in this field?” To be honest, I have no idea what I said at the time. I was so nervous, I completely blocked out the interview from my memory. All I remember is being asked to come back for a second interview at the end. Theresa wrote the date and time on her business card and handed it to me. I walked out of the facility and sat in my car. I thought to myself, This is it . I knew I was going to work here.
A few days later I returned for a second interview. After signing a confidentiality statement, I sat in on a group to observe. There were approximately eight patients in the large group room. I sat in the corner and attempted to be invisible. The invisibility cloak my mind created lasted about thirty seconds. I was the youngest person in the room. The patients were at least ten to twenty years older than me, dressed in jeans and sweatshirts. I wore a blazer, dress pants, and heels. The outfit didn’t make my youthful face appear any more mature than my years. I did not blend in.
“Who is that?” asked a patient. The therapist stated, “I will explain as soon as everyone joins the group.” Once group began, she went on to say, “This is Christina. She is shadowing our group today to see if she would like to be a therapist here one day.” The patients all stared at me.