Saturday, December 3, 2022

Comments by Dorpats Doormat

Showing 1 of 1 comments.

  • Dear disequilibrium1,

    I hope you come to find my comment.

    I found your blog a decade ago when it was in its infancy. I never contributed, but read it as it unfolded over many years.

    Before your blog, I thought I was the only one to have had my mind shredded by the crazy making antics of psychotherapy from the many meandering clinicians I saw over fourteen years.

    At that time, before your blog, there really wasn’t much else on the internet from which to find relief. I had felt my brain rip from treatment and carried a pain in my head for two years after I had extricated myself from the codependency and the gaslighting.

    I couldn’t bring myself to find another clinician in hope of healing from the accumulated iatrogenic harm and how I had become withdrawn and submissive. I was experiencing increased suicidal ideation and covered in their shame. I had lost the ability to trust and have faith in the goodness of people. I isolated myself, lost in confusion from it all.

    By their aggressive treatment of me, they had convinced me that I was inherently bad, as my unwell family in childhood had repeatedly stated to me. I had sought professional opinion and healing because I was really suffering with no self-esteem.
    It had backfired. The professional opinions matched family opinions and for a while I half believed them all.

    All clinicians without exception were seething people. The last couldn’t hide her disgust for me as I began to deteriorate in her care. She would resist if I asked to be referred elsewhere. I had told her that I loved her in hope that her aggression would stop. The boundaries and goals of therapy were never explained to me. Their dead stares and silences unsettled me through the week between sessions. Their questioning was prurient and shameless.

    I couldn’t report those clinicians to validate my experience as they were clearly masters of avoiding accountability in therapy, kept self-serving notes that pathologized me, and were respected amongst their peers who were quick to close ranks when I made the first fragile steps towards reporting.

    I couldn’t describe the harm even if I wanted to formally complain. I couldn’t bring myself to sit down and write what my complaint was in fear of reliving it. I was stuck between holding them to account and moving on. I could only write that it was like being raped. Any draft of a complaint I wrote made me sound gullible and inarticulate.

    I mourned the lost time and the money I went without which funded their luxury lifestyles. They went off on leave with little notice while I was left with no time to plan for a vacation myself.

    Psychotherapy had taken my resilience because it replicates the trauma and abuse of a narcissist and the associated destruction of codependency.

    You, disequilibrium1, slowly sewed my mind back together. I sincerely mean it when I say that you saved my mind and that you are a hero of mine. Your blog gave me the words I couldn’t articulate. Thanks to your blog, my self-confidence slowly returned.

    Thank you, disequilibrium1, from the bottom of my heart.


    Dorpat’s Doormat