Format Change
I've been experimenting with a new, off-line format for my therapy journal. In the nearly half a century I have kept a psychotherapy journal it has changed format several times, from the random scraps of early experiments to a massive collection of spiral bound notebooks to the turn of the millennium of blogs on random websites across the internet. This very collection is the most comprehensive collection of those blog-style journals. Sometimes the changes are more context than format. When I spot one of my more dysfunctional obsessions, tweaking the way I frame the thoughts as I write seems to consistently change the way I respond in the living actions and reactions. Each change in my journal format seems to be a leap forward in my healing journey.
Do the healing journeys ever end? This past May marked 48 years since that nearly successful suicide attempt ushered me in to my first formal psychotherapy appointment at a charity clinic. That 17 year old, drug addicted prostitute has come a long way, baby, but child sex trafficking creates one hell of a psycho snot knot. These days the judges of book covers most often mistake me for whatever variant of "Lucky" the individual is obsessing over at the time. Yea, my lucky charm is on the magic carpet you have been waiting on, my friend. Hope ^it^ serves you as well as ^it^ served me. Alas, it comes with a four letter word attached: Work. That lucky charm willnae work unless you work it. Ah, those pesky details. . .
Leaving the AssUmptions of bookcover judges aside for now. . .
Inside my strictly personal skin, I have been feeling like the psychotherapy path has carried me far enough that it isnae worth the effort of learning the new waves of terminology to continue on that path. Do I care whether pop psychologists are watching out for Plastic People or sending Toxic People to the Toxic People Landfill? Not one lick more than I care whether your latest youthenization really does make you look 5 years younger. The platitudes I offer down that line are purely an escape tactic. Good luck with that. Healing hopes for all. No exceptions. As I attempt to gentle my weary disdain for learning yet another set of rapid cycling vernacular, I wander the wonder if it be time for me to transition to the next level. Do I even know what that means and/or looks like? My VA shrinks didnae believe they know. Child sex trafficking survivors still seldom make it to 30 years of age. There isnae much data available on 65 year old survivors. I does believe I am on my own for this step, if it be a legitimate step more than *just* another delusion of granduer.
Predictably enough, the new format stalled out after the first paragraph. I have stalled out after the first step of every transition in my broken life. My heavily theraputed psycho sense view that stalling as the acceptance phase of change. I cannae change a thing until I accept it needs to change. Nor can I move forward with confidence before I have had time to process the trailhead of the path I am embarking upon.
My hope is that this backward step to the currently familiar format will jumpstart the move forward. Reality checks welcome.
Testing, 1, 2, 3. . .
Replies
Healing hugs and lots of love Arfie!
I often prefer my “offline formats”, the online thing is (even though it’s been over a year now) new to me. I’ve recently discovered my various formats while sort and organizing. Fortunately I’m an obsessive writer and have OCD about all my different journals. I keep ones for separate things, from health care, to everyday, to psych management, to my stories and books. I use at least 4-5 different journals at one time. (And yes each journal has its own specifically assigned writing instrument, lol.)
Part of me wishes I could avoid the latest “pop psychological” jargon and trends but my current therapy prevents that. Still recently I’ve taken to gathering up and reading old psychology and philosophy books from the 1800s thru earlier 1900s, which has given me some very interesting insights and has been quite a healing addition to the proverbial toolbox.
Wishing you best of luck as you work thru the different formats, Arfie.
Hugs & love!
Keeping logs comes far more naturally to me than journaling. I have been aggressively encouraged to pursue a writing career, but I too often feel like my base conditioning in child pornography, etc., makes creativity a threatening proposition in my broken life. Just the facts, Ma'am/Sir. Just the facts and nothing but the facts. My mind ain't flexible enough to ply love metaphors to what you are asking of me.
One of the dilemmas of psychotherapy is that it remains an infant science which has far more theory than tradition to grow on. In 1972 when my formal psychotherapy journey began, the medical names available the injuries sustained by the ancient, multi-cultural traditions of child sex trafficking were far from healing hopes. Toxic People Haters are far from the first to ply the ancient traditions of ostracization. It was what we had to work with. I remain eternally grateful for the brave souls who dared to help me search for hope in that cesspool of secretive tradition.
To my twisted mind, the theories which my therapy supporters and I have worked in my therapy sessions arenae pop psychology until they pop out at social gatherings, etc., with more *They's* and *We's" than my fragile sanity can keep up with. If I cannae take ^it^ personal, I donae take ^it^ at all. I leave ^it^ where ^it^ landed and go off to find a less triggering passtime. Plying therapy tools I have already mastered is the top of that particular list.
Ladies, I have sometimes journaled, but am better with lists. I have also found that lunch with 2 close friends does more in the psych healing arena than therapy. I look at psychotherapy as a bit of a guessing game on what will work. M.D.'s don't give chemo for a cold, nor do they script a cholesterol med for a broken bone. Sometimes they have to guess a bit. In the psych world, way too many adopt a theory and use that on all their patients, like a magic bullet. I believe that the mind is more complex than the body, and each of us needs different modes for recovery. I have watched the treatment du jour shift over time, with so many hopping on the newest bandwagon. It really is on us to find what works for us, rather than staying with one therapy because that's what that therapist believes in. Just some thoughts. Hugs.
Big squishy hug for you sweetie..... I find you to be an inspiration ….. I'm glad writing helps you..... I kept a journal during my last hospital stay 9 years ago and I journaled while I was in there
What I found most interesting was how quickly that I completely forgot what I wrote or how I was feeling the day before...… Another hug and a blessing.....xo
Yea, the psych symptoms which earned me membership in the pre-med-compliant bipolar network became undeniable after I started journaling. Those symptoms are still there and I still use the tools I learned through BP therapy (including the therapy journal) to manage those symptoms, but the goal of psychotherapy is personal progress. There comes a time when it is time.
But here I am in the midst of an intense episode triggered by current events and the new format has yet to feel comfortable enough the be theraputic. Works in progress. . . The first steps are always the hardest. I believe there is far more courage in those first steps than in showing up for the awards ceremony. Maybe. I've hated every awards ceremony I've ever attended and concur with holding them as proof that no good deed shall go unpunished.
Always enjoy reading your thoughts and observations on so many topics we’ve discussed. I have a crate of half written journals from many many years and lately I’ve been waiting for a steady schedule that I can focus on writing a book. What an enormous thing to take on..... but I think these things can help others as they work on their own therapy process. You certainly have been a survivor and a symbol of strength.
Thank you, Hobo, butttttttttaaaaaaa. . .
I does wonder if that "Writing A Book" theme is the blockage. Since I was able to write eloquently long before I was able to speak well enough to handle a phone call, I have been enthusiastically encouraged to *Be A Writer* for most of my long life. I even tried, but never was able to achieve the emotional stability nor self-confidence to move in those exalted circles. I am barely housebroken, much less refined enough for public display. I hated every minute of my scant moments in the public eye and the memory of those moments which haunt me still. The experience felt like the rings of Dante's Inferno. For a child sex trafficking survivor, life under a public celebrity microscope sounds. . . Daunting?
I have no intention of braving the publication route, but losing the journal/blog format feels an awful lot like braving that messy, guessy process, but. . . Those demons, too, must be confronted and processed.