The Most Unprofessional Therapist I’ve Ever Seen
Group therapy is decidedly not for me
About a year after I was released from the hospital, it was recommended to me to join a support group of sorts. It was advertised as group therapy by my then-psychiatrist, and since I had had such great success with group therapy in the hospital I was interested in joining.
The group leader was another therapist in the office — we will call him Peter — who I had never seen before. He was starting to host these groups for specific individuals based on different topics. The one I was recommended to join was about building self esteem.
Peter could not have been a worse choice to lead a group on self esteem.
Red flags from the get-go
The most important thing to note here was that I was informed that the group would be with like-minded and similarly-aged patients; meaning we would have similar backgrounds and experiences to be able to discuss. I was given a flyer and everything.
When I got to the first meeting, I was not only the youngest person in the group by at least ten years, but I was also the only person there with depression and anxiety. Everyone else in the group had co-occurring substance abuse.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with that; addiction is just as much a mental health issue as depression, however I could not relate to these other patients as well as I was lead to believe. I can’t sit there and vibe with their experiences because I’ve never done drugs and I drink on the rarest of occasions.
I love meeting new people and learning from other people’s experiences. It’s one of the reasons I’m so passionate about speaking about mental health, specifically. However, when I was told that I would get to meet with people around my age with the same kinds of life experiences as me, that’s what I am expecting. I was not expecting to be the youngest and the only person to be sober in the room.
Since we were already off to a sour start, my confidence in the group and therapist were shallow. We started late because Peter was running behind — which is understandable but for a group of individuals with anxiety, running late isn’t exactly ideal — and not wearing shoes. That just felt a little weird for a doctor’s office.
Two of the eight other people in the group were also personal patients to Peter, which gave him a slight bias. He saw them regularly and knew them well, so he tended to let them talk longer (which took time away from the rest of us, whose experiences and thoughts were equally as important).
What was said
Peter had us all sit in a circle of comfy chairs in his office. He introduced himself to us and asked that we do the same. I was next to last to share.
When it was my turn to share and introduce myself — and explain why I had decided to join the group — I was expectedly nervous. I had just heard very raw and real stories from people who were previously homeless, battling addiction, lost their kids, and much more than my 22 year old brain could even comprehend.
“Hi, I’m Megan. I’m 22 and I just graduated from [college] with my Bachelor’s in English with a concentration in creative writing. I’m currently unemployed and I guess that’s why I decided to try this group. I feel really crap about myself and my situation and I needed an outlet.”
I didn’t make eye contact with anyone, I just looked at my hands and spoke quietly.
“Thank you for sharing, Megan. Why don’t you think you’ve been able to find a job?” Peter asked
“Oh, um, I don’t know. I’ve been applying to a lot of different things, but I only graduated a couple of months ago so that’s probably why,” I defended.
“It’s funny that you say that you majored in English. I also majored in English and I was unemployed for nearly a decade because of it. You picked a tough field to enter into.”
I was gutted. I was shocked. I was in complete disbelief. This guy that had only known me for a matter of minutes was telling me that I picked a bad major, and therefore I was doomed to a lifetime of unemployment?
He continued on to say that over the course of those 10 years, he applied to probably hundreds of jobs and never got a call back. He assumed it was because of his degree, and implied that the degree was likely the reason I also had not found a job.
I don’t remember if I said anything after that, but I do know that I kept my mouth shut for the remainder of the meeting. We all had to sign a contract that said we were going to come to all eight scheduled meetings and would not quit until it was over, because it was for the betterment of our quality of life… or some crap like that.
How I left
Spoiler alert: I didn’t stay for all eight sessions.
I’m not religious, I’m not one to believe in miracles. But God threw me a bone that week in between the first two sessions. I had two interviews and was offered both jobs that paid well above the minimum wage in our state. Both teaching positions, both in town, one full time with benefits. I cried I was so ecstatic.
I marched into the next session with Peter and announced that unfortunately, I would be unable to continue with the group because I was offered two jobs and was accepting them both. I would be working as a Pre-K teacher during the day and a driving instructor in the evenings twice a week. “I know those aren’t technically in my field, but I have always worked with kids so I think both will be great fits,” I said. I knew I didn’t need to defend my position, but I wanted to make the point that I got the jobs despite my degree choice.
The look on Peter’s face can only be described as gobsmacked. He didn’t say anything for a moment before congratulating me quietly, and moving on.
I sat back in my chair with a satisfied little smile. I knew I had showed him up; I had made him look bad in front of everyone else. The other patients congratulated me as well and said they were disappointed I couldn’t continue, but I had bigger fish to fry.
After the session, I confirmed with Peter that I wouldn’t be returning and that it was alright, and he nodded. Again, he congratulated me and I walked out to my car.
While I didn’t end up keeping the Pre-K job (due to poor management and a toxic work/life balance), I have been a driving instructor for two years and my self esteem has never been higher.
I’m a fantastic teacher and I’m helping enrich lives. The fact that I have been able to stand in front of sixteen-year-olds and educate them has given me more confidence that Peter ever could imagine.
