Feeling Invisible When Fighting The Invisible Enemy, Covid-19
Need a therapist to deal with my therapists.
Need a therapist to deal with my therapists.
Each visit at my therapist my tears kept pouring out of me like a running fountain with brief dry spells. I was a mess. Broke, alone and working on a documentary about my mother. It wasn’t a retrospective about an exceptional woman, the matriarch of a large family. It was a documentary about my desperate quest to understand my mother in order to forgive her. I was running out of time and so was she. Mom was in her late 80s and I was in my 50s.
My experience prior to this time with therapy was limited. When I was living in Los Angeles there was a woman, who came highly recommended that I made guest appearances at when I was having boyfriend problems. Her work was fast. In one or two visits, I was repositioned and good to go. No more feeling like a rejected poor me obsessing over what I did wrong. She managed to help me make a few corrections and to fill up my depleted self-esteem tank. I learned later she ended up being the expert counselor on a reality show.
Now back in New York, in the trenches of reliving the trauma of my childhood as I reread the diaries of my youth, researching for my film, I knew that it was time to find a therapist again. Nearly everything and everyone brought me to tears. Each time I left my house whether it was a cloudy day or evening, I hid behind my sunglasses. When a woman, with no front teeth stopped me at 14th Street showing me a medical prescription, and said, “I need a EKG. I’ve got no one. I lost my husband a few weeks ago and my son before that. Can you please help me with carfare to get to the hospital?” I buckled. My hand immediately dug into my wallet and I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to her. She hugged me tightly. “Thank you so much,” she sobbed. I held her firmly as we both cried.
My search for a shrink had a limited scope as I now had to find someone who took my insurance. Making my own film had its pluses and negatives, one of which was financial hardship.
When I found Margaret she was part of a mental health clinic in the East Village. Many of the patients sitting in the waiting room, appeared to have several challenges in addition to economics. Perhaps addiction and health issues. There was a lot of sneezing, coughing, and raised voices. I was no longer in the plush waiting room of my Beverly Hills counselor.
I was grateful to have found Margaret. This was a second career for her coming from corporate marketing. We were close in age and both Jewish. I was sure these similarities would cement a bond between us.
Every session, I was brought to tears with ease just reflecting on my life and circumstances. As I sniveled, Margaret would pass me the tissues. There weren’t any particular insights she parted. At this point, I was just thrilled to have someone to listen to me and not feel I was burdening her or him with my troubles.
I was finally creeping out of the dark place I had fallen into. I was seeing the light again. I was feeling good about myself and I could feel my power coming back. I was excited to share my good news. I arrived and took my seat and after greeting her hello, I started to speak. I felt myself glowing as I told her about my progress. When I finished, Margaret turned her back and looked up at the clock on the wall and said, “Do you realize you went on for fifteen minutes non-stop? I feel invisible.” I started wondering about her childhood. Did her father ignore her, perhaps he was an alcoholic or her mother was abusive. Thoughts were racing inside my head. She continued, “We’re not doing work.” Work? What work? She seemed satisfied when I would sit there crying.
From that point on our sessions were focused on our relationship. I started dreaded going there and began missing appointments and coming late. Margaret had me sign a document saying if I didn’t cancel within a twenty-four hours notice I would be dropped or penalized. I reflected back on the time I told her about my struggle to raise money for my film. She encouraged me to sleep with someone in order to get funds. I was sure she was joking, than she proudly announced she always wanted to be a sex therapist. It was time to end my relationship with Margaret.
I went without a therapist for a number of years until I found myself losing a lot loved ones, including a cousin who was like a sister and most recently my brother. Needing to stick to my insurance I found a non-profit that accepted it and as I transitioned into Medicare they informed me not to worry that they don’t turn anyone away. I learned about this place through a neighbor as she praised her therapist who was now out on maternity leave. During my intake from a young male, I was praying he was not going to be my therapist. I explained, that I needed an experienced, quick minded, smart woman. They were short staffed and the only woman available was the administrator of the program. He arranged quickly for meet to her. She got me. “The healer needs to be healed,” she said. It would take nearly two months before she was available and I was happy to wait.
Finally, I would be able to dig into my dark holes and work through them. I was now sixty-five years old and still not married watching one by one members of my family die along with my emergency number. I was getting scared about being alone for the rest of my life and was ready to roll up my sleeves and do the necessary work. Janette and I hit it off personally. However, she had many obligations, which often affected our sessions either having to reschedule or her being late. And that deep work I was hoping for was not happening. This time my therapist was fine to hear stories of progress and was quite supportive. She called me the Queen Bee and encouraged me to buy stylish heeled shoes, wear lipstick and present my beauty to potential partners. I did all that and even went as far as running a personal ad. I felt like each session I had I was hanging with a savvy girlfriend who I could share my stories with. No great breakthroughs. No calling me out on my “stuff”. Kind, nice and encouraging, although I often felt her preoccupation with work she needed to tend to as the director of the program. Then, I had a family emergency and flew out of town to care for a loved one. Janette graciously agreed to do our session on the phone.
One of my issues in life is focus and a slight sound or movement could throw me off my course. As I was talking with Janette, I could hear a tapping sound coming through the phone. To me it sounded like the sound track to Jaws. I fumbled losing my train of thought and then stopped and she said “Yeah” as if she didn’t really hear what I said. The tapping continued.
Then it hit me. “Are you typing?” I asked her.
“Yes, sorry I just had to finished something. I won’t do it again.”
“Okay, no problem,” I assured her.
Our next three sessions were in person until recently when Covid 19 started ravaging New York City. I was relieved to switch to phone and not have to go there during these scary times and was also concerned about the workers’ safety.
In the beginning of our appointment we caught up on the procedures. She informed me that she had brought on more staff that were good and mentioned a woman’s name.
Mid sentence, I started hearing the same sound. This time, I didn’t hesitate. “Are you typing?”
“Yes, so sorry. My boss is sending me emails I must respond to.”
I wondered didn’t he know she was also seeing patients. Wouldn’t he understand if her response was delayed until she was done?
Having grown up feeling ignored and invisible, my therapist’s distractions while in session with me were not helping.
The time wasn’t even up when I started saying my good-bye. “Okay, so same time next week?” I asked.
“Let me see.” She paused and continued, “Yes, that works.”
I responded, “And if you find yourself too busy with all your admin work on your plate, I’m okay passing me off to the new woman who started.”
There was a pause before she responded, “Okay”.
As much as I would love to have a therapist who is not preoccupied or brings her issues into the session, my priority now is to avoid getting Covid 19 virus, staying healthy and helping others. When we’re no longer in isolation, I’ll find someone who is both skilled and can focus on doing a deep dive with me.
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Story and photos ©GayleKirschenbaum. All rights reserved.