When I was 17, I got in a car with a drunk driver and was almost killed. I had seizures and was in a coma for a few days. When I came out of it, I was confused, and my memory was almost non-existent. I didn’t pick-up that I had PTSD.
My mom is very proactive and got the referral for a therapist. I saw “Bob” somewhere between one and ten times, and I remember next to none of it. He taped every session for me, and I never listened to them. He also had this strange sound that went off behind me to signify that the session was done. I did not like that sound. I did not like Bob. I did not like therapy. I stopped going.
Guess it was time
Fast forward about 5 years: one day I looked out the window of my car and considered killing myself. I know now that I was far from attempting suicide, but at the time I was scared out of my mind. I called my mom, and she reintroduced the idea of therapy. I was skeptical but knew I needed help, and I started seeing a guy I liked and trusted.
I realized quickly that I’d been worn down by my job. I was a full-time volunteer at a day program for homeless men. I absolutely loved my job but witnessing desolation and hopelessness on a daily basis left me wondering and questioning my own life and worth. Equally difficult was the trauma lurking in the background from my car accident.
It wasn’t easy, but I committed to doing what my therapist suggested: writing in a journal, working out every day, eating better, seeing my friends frequently, etc. Nothing he suggested was groundbreaking, but I wouldn’t have committed so seriously had he not encouraged me and held me accountable. I started feeling better.
Finally, direction
One day, my therapist asked if I’d ever considered being a therapist. He told me he thought I’d be excellent at it. Much that I still questioned why therapy helps, I had a direction. I also knew I needed to have a bit more life experience before school. I saw a want ad in the paper for teachers, and I went for it. I taught middle school and loved it. The experience was invaluable, and after two years I started grad school. I’ve been at it ever since.
Understanding the craft
I’m a firm believer in therapy, and a firm believer that a good therapist needs to have a bunch of therapy and see a bunch of different therapists. And I have.
I recognized that the ones who were most helpful were invested in a relationship with me. I know we aren’t friends with our therapists, and we don’t hang out in the “real world.” But I knew they cared. Some of it is very subtle. For example, a therapist in Oakland had a west facing office. During sessions the sun was often bright, and she remembered how it bothered me and would lower the blinds as I sat down. Even when she was on crutches, she did it. She also gave me a real hug at the end of sessions. We aren’t “supposed” to give hugs like this. But who cares, it helped me. I felt like she cared, and it helped me to trust her and make shifts.
I’ve also recognized over and over that my most trusted therapists have asked thought provoking questions and given me helpful suggestions (i.e., advice.) I know therapists aren’t “supposed” to give advice, but the subtle nudges, encouragement and advice are what have been most helpful.
Me as a therapist
I use these experiences to guide my work. From the very first word on the telephone with a prospective client, I focus on developing a solid, trusting relationship as a base for change. I’m an extroverted, funny, kind guy who cares deeply for others. And people generally feel comfortable talking to me about their hardest thoughts and feelings. I’m not a therapist who sits quietly and stares at clients, waiting for them to talk. Instead, I jump in, ask questions, hopefully build trust, and help people find their way to a happier place. Along the way comes this helpful encouragement (i.e., advice.) Although my style tends to work well with most people, I find that adolescent boys and men (with or without their spouse/partner) find my style to be particularly helpful. I’m a married dad, and I know the way.
(Somewhat humorously, I shared this post with an adolescent girl I see. She said that she notices when I close the blinds. I didn’t even think of it and enjoyed the reminder.)
So, if you’re looking to talk to someone who’s pretty normal and cares deeply, reach out. I’ll even close the blinds! We’ll figure out practical solutions and strategies for you to put into practice in the real world. With effort and resilience on your part, they should help. If you’re feeling like you could use support and find concrete solutions, call or text at 916-919-0218. If you live outside CA, we could meet for coaching. To learn more, reach out.
PRT: an introduction
With these thoughts in mind, my trusted friend and colleague Lindsey Stewart resilienceandhealing.com and I have formulated a new therapeutic structure. It’s not brain surgery. It’s just practical advice and helps people overcome life challenges. We call it Practical Resilience Therapy. PRT. Next time, we’ll share our theory.
