Intake

Back in March, my therapist broke the news that she’d be returning to only seeing patients in person.  Since she’s located somewhere in Florida, that meant I had to find a new therapist.

And so the journey began.

It is ridiculously hard to find mental health support in this world.  I’d found my previous therapist on BetterHelp, having turned to the service after finding no one accepted the Mass Health insurance I had when I first moved back to Boston.  I liked my therapist, but the service was expensive, even with a discount.  They didn’t accept my insurance, but finding nothing but dead ends, I was desperate and made it work.   Now, armed with better insurance from my job at a mental health nonprofit, I was faced with the challenge of finding a therapist in network.

It was shockingly hard. 

Week after week my calls to various therapists’ voicemails went unanswered.  I called five therapists a week for three weeks.

Radio silence.

Then, finally, on the fourth week, I made some progress, hearing back from a handful of the practitioners who I’d left desperate voicemails for.

I scheduled two appointments to try out different options and then came the hard part: the intake.

I’ve been through countless intake appointments in my life.  From the more involved ones at rehab facilities that often involve a strip search, to the more laid-back traditional 50-minute getting-to-know-you sessions with a therapist.  I’ve been through them all.  And yet part of me still hesitated when it came time to do yet another intake, to lay out my mental health history once again.

I know my story well at this point.  I know what is most important to highlight for my therapist so that we can work effectively together.  I’ve learned to be honest with my providers, something I struggled with when I was drinking. 

“Do you have to go through the whole thing over again?” my mom asked me as I described my initial visit to her.

Yep.  The whole entire thing.  Twice.   Once for each of the therapists I was trying out.

The therapist I ended up selecting, I chose because she guided me through my story and history in a way that felt compassionate.  She didn’t just say “tell me about yourself,” and make me run through my whole life.  She figuratively held my hand through the details of my childhood, my trauma, my sobriety journey.  It was still painful, but going on the journey with her somehow felt less daunting.

This isn’t to say the other therapist wasn’t great.  She too listened and exhibited compassion.

In the end, I had a hard time choosing between the two. But I went with the first, because if I’d felt so comfortable with her in that first awkward intake, I knew I was in good hands.

I’ve been with my new therapist for about a month now and I couldn’t be happier.  I haven’t worked this hard in therapy in a long time, and the work feels good.  I haven’t cried this much in therapy in a long time, but they’re good cries, and I can feel myself growing through the tears.

Despite the struggle to find her, with that and the awkward intake behind me, I’m left feeling grateful and supported.  It was a pain in the ass to find a new therapist, but the search was worth it.  I’m now working with someone who I believe can truly help me, and I’m finding in myself an ability to dig deep that I haven’t tapped into in a long time.