The One where I'm Back

I’ve actually been back at work for more than a month now, but I found it difficult to find time to write a blog post. And the words to put into this. So this will be a short one just to get me back into writing content.

I’ve spent about 4 weeks in a psychological rehab facilitation (after I had been quite ok for the first time in a long time for about 2 months already). I was supposed to stay there for 5 weeks but decided to leave earlier. I missed my family and my own place. I did not miss work nearly as much as I thought I would beforehand. I enjoyed the time off, I enjoyed having a lot of free time to order my thoughts and to get back into a workout routine.

I did not like the therapy sessions. The clinic only offers group therapy and I was put in the department for depressed people who could use some cognitive behavioural therapy. Which was the right choice. But the content of the group therapy sessions was just not right for me. I think it was very much geared towards people who have suddenly realised that they need some help with their mental health (or who were forced to come to that realisation by their pension insurance provider) and it was all so basic.

There was a ‘base group’ where we talked about sleep hygiene. And saying no, in terms of “realise that you want to say no, go into the conversation being sure you are going to say no and why, think about your body language”. And there was something that my mind refuses to remember entirely about loss/breakups that turned into a game of who’s had it worse (definitely not me, by the way).

And then there was the ‘depression group’. The first session was about symptoms of a depression, the second was about causes for a depression, the third about the connection between actions and depression, the fourth about how we can actively try to change our thoughts. As someone who has done 2 years of depth-analysis psychotherapy, almost 2 years of cognitive behavioural therapy and has read tons of books to try to cope with things in between these two therapies, there was just nothing for me in it.

When I decided to leave, the therapist was kind enough to give me the handouts for the remaining sessions (I wouldn’t have been able to finish the 8 scheduled sessions even by staying for the full 5 weeks because of organisational delays) and the last one was about values and goals. Which is on the other spectrum for me. Nothing a depressed person can deal with while being stuck in a depressive episode. No idea why they incorporate it in this kind of setting.

So, in short: I liked the tranquility, I learned how to cope with a very empty schedule, I worked out a lot, I planned a lot, I read a lot, I ate cheese cake in all the cafés that I found and still lost weight. I did not gain any value from the therapy sessions aside from the assurance that I’m on a very, very good way and that I know everything I need to know.

This got a bit longer than I intended it to be, so I’ll leave the “How I’m feeling, now that I’m back” part for another post.