Ghost maps and relational realit

March 11, 2023 Lissa Carter

By Lissa Carter, LCMHC

This time of the year, there is a hike I love to take down into the river gorge where daffodils blanket the forest floor. The story goes that a woman, unhappily transplanted to this isolated homestead in the mountains, put a few daffodil bulbs into the ground to try and brighten her days. The homestead is long since flooded and gone, but the daffodils remain, spreading and multiplying through the woods to mark the place she once lived.

Daffodils form a kind of ghost map, a secret clue to the history of a place. Someone had to plant them, and so wherever there are daffodils there is the story of a person who loved them. Near my home there is a vacant lot. The absence of trees indicates the faint echo of where a driveway once curved, and in the spring blooming daffodils outline what must once have been the entry to the house.

When I studied nettles, I learned that because of their nutritional requirements, they can often be found growing in old homesites where the dwellers had their compost pile. Often once you find a patch of nettles you can walk a radius around them to locate an old chimney or foundation stones. It’s a great way to show off to friends and family (although, it must be said, they are never quite as impressed as one might hope.)

Ghost maps show us what was when we tune into what is. There are botanical ghost maps, weather ghost maps (early morning clouds trace the parts of the earth below that are first to warm), and political ghost maps (I learned in a long-ago anthropology class that the most vehemently misogynistic cultures offer a ghost map of the geographical areas that historically had traditions of female empowerment, because of the retaliatory nature of politics).

How is this relevant to therapy?

Well, the hike up from the daffodils at the river bottom is steep, with persistent elevation gains for three miles straight. You get to witness a parade of coping strategies in those around you and within your own mind, if you pay attention.

When we first discovered this hike, my husband got frustrated with me for hiking ahead and leaving him behind. We could easily have turned this into a full-blown argument, with accusations of selfishness and neediness flying around. But if, instead, we could see the ghost maps—the little girl who absorbed biographies of George Fox and John Woolman, determined to develop grit—the neglected little boy who had to learn to be insistent and vocal to get his needs met—we could navigate the web of relational reality that is so different from what we think of as objective truth.

The past leaves its thumbprint on us. Once we have awoken to a pattern of behavior, we have the thumbprint—the ghost map. It tells us a story about the thumb—the thing that happened in the past that taught us to behave this way.

Our relational models are built in equal part by internalizing what we were exposed to (as James Baldwin observed, “Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them”) and reacting against it. So we may find ourselves, inexplicably, lashing out violently in response to a relational trigger one day, and just a few days later responding to the same occurrence by shutting down entirely.

If we can understand the hidden nutrients beneath these nettles, we can treat ourselves with greater compassion and understanding. And we can access more patience when the people we love behave in confusing and irrational ways.

Next time you find yourself confused by your own behavior, or the behavior of someone you love, ask yourself or your loved one these four questions, adapted from the work of Terry Real:

“Who behaved this way when you were growing up?”

“Who acted this behavior out on you?”

“When did you enact this behavior as a child without anyone stopping you?”

“Who hurt you by behaving the opposite of the way you are behaving?”

As humans, we love reasons. In one famous study, participants were split into three groups. One group was told to butt ahead in line without giving a reason. Another was told to give a plausible reason, and a third was told to give an irrational reason. It turned out that although the people waiting in line were angered by the behavior of butting in line without offering an explanation, they were pacified equally by reasons as logical as “I have to go ahead of you because my partner is in labor” and reasons as implausible as “I have to get ahead of you because I had cereal for breakfast.”

If we have a reason for the way we are acting, we can generate more compassion and understanding. This leads to healthier relationships, fewer arguments, and a deeper understanding of our own lives and the lives of those we love.

Noticing ghost maps is a beautiful way to begin tracking and understanding our layered relational realities… the foundation stones below the lines of daffodils.

If you are interested in your own inner worlds and wish to explore the meaning of your dreams, join Lissa and Julie for a daylong dreamwork retreat this September. Click the image below for more information.

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I'm overwhelmed, and I can't go on.

March 5, 2023 Lissa Carter

By Lissa Carter, LCMHC

If you think you are alone in this feeling, let me relieve you of that misconception. The vast majority of my clients—clients who represent a pretty wide span of financial, generational, and professional realities—have said these exact words to me at one time or another. Usually through tears. (Sometimes we forget this, but feelings literally hurt. The clue is in the name).

When my clients share their sense of overwhelm with me, what I say next might seem counterintuitive:

Would you like to hear a story?

I promise this is not me trying to sidestep the intensity of my clients’ feelings. Allow me to explain. We have a tendency, when we are in pain, to contract. We attempt to make ourselves smaller, to have less surface area to contact a world so full of trouble.

But imagine if you stirred a tablespoon of salt into a small glass of water. Not only would that water become impossible to drink, but if emptied onto the ground, it would burn any plants that happened to be growing.

If you took that same glass of salty water and emptied it into a freshwater tub, the salinity would be greatly diluted.

And if you emptied that bathtub into a lake, the salt would become barely detectable.

Contracting around painful feelings might seem to make sense, but it traps the intensity inside a rigid, small container. If, instead, we could amplify those feelings somehow; dilute them enough that we could bear them and interact with them rather than being fused and overcome by them…we might be able to find a way forward.

And that, precisely, is what stories are for.

In his fascinating work Traumzeit, Hans Peter Duerr writes: “Snow White’s stepmother could only bear to see her second face when it was not her own, but that of the mirror.”

Does that strike a faint chord in you, somewhere? We all have those second faces, shadowy faces, that we’d prefer to ignore. But if we can look them in the eye—if we can find a “mirror” for those parts of ourselves in a story or in an archetype—we can choose to consciously relate to them rather than allowing them to subconsciously control us.

Imagine that you are feeling unbearable pain around parenting. Perhaps you are suffering because you acted in a way that violates your own values, or perhaps you have come under the laser eye of the collective for a real or imagined transgression (society loves to shame parents). Imagine sitting back and listening to the story of Snow White, allowing the Wicked Stepmother archetype to carry all of that tight, overwhelming, immense feeling.

Imagine that you could talk to her—-to that demonized stepmother. Imagine that you could dialogue with her, and hear her side of the story; imagine that you could allow her to absorb some of the fire of your own feelings. Perhaps you could emerge from that conversation having let go of whatever poisoned apple you’d been holding—-having given it back to her, the archetype, to hold.

Through amplification, counterintuitively, comes relief.

Here’s another way to think about it: imagine that all of us are adrift in tiny boats in a boundless sea.

Every once in a while, our boats strike an immense boulder. Perhaps it is the boulder of grief. Or the boulder of rage. Or the boulder of injustice.

Whatever it is, it belongs to the ocean—not to us. The Grief or The Rage or The Injustice just are—boulders in the ocean of human experience. Everyone’s boat touches them sooner or later; but they are far too vast for one human life to encompass or fathom. All we can do is allow ourselves to set foot on these shores and then, when the time comes, to get back in our boats. We don’t carry the boulders with us. They are not ours.

Allow me to offer an example that is adapted from a client’s story, a client who has given me permission to share. (Some details have been changed to protect privacy).

The Depression is Taking me Over

My client had been suffering from depression for over a decade. He had found some relief, recently, through his meditation routine, time spent in the outdoors, and the ACT interventions we practiced in session. But today, when he walked through the door, I could tell things had stepped up a notch. There was no light in his eyes. Even his speech had slowed down.

“It was really, really bad this week”. He forced the words out through tight lips. “I wasn’t even sure I could get out of bed to drag myself here.”

I put a cup of tea into his hands and dimmed the lights slightly. I asked him if he would be open to hearing a story, and watched as his muscles visibly relaxed. (Later he told me it was because he felt he was off the hook to explain, justify, or fix the way he was feeling).

He nodded, and I started to tell the story of Catskin. There are many versions of this story, and in this one, the heroine is cast out from her kingdom and is sent out into the wilderness wearing a coat sewn of the pelts of every animal who dwelt in the bounds of that kingdom. She finds a hollow tree and crawls inside to sleep for seven days and seven nights.

When I arrived at that moment in the story, I saw that tears were beginning to fall from my client’s closed eyes. I asked him what was happening, and he shared this:

“I would love to sleep in a tree for seven days.”

(Can you relate? …Me too.)

We spent some time with that feeling—-the feeling of being wrapped in the “skin” of every mode of being that could possibly exist. Of being allowed to wear every possible way of being right there on the surface. Of being so integrated into the natural world as to be almost invisible. Of being allowed to sleep for as long as the animal body required. The tears kept flowing. When his eyes opened, I asked my client if he’d be willing to draw what was happening in his heart and mind.

The image that emerged was the image of a hollow tree with a crescent moon rising above it. The whole scene was wrapped in velvety purples and blues. “Where are you?” I asked.

“I’m in there”, he said, pointing at the tree. “I’m resting.”

His face, now, was more relaxed. He had found Catskin to rest his boat on. Now there was a new possibility, the possibility that at some point, his boat would be able to leave these shores.

We looked at his drawing together. His posture was more alert, his eyes brighter. Now that we had a piece of paper to represent the depression, his body didn't have to hold it. I noticed that the crescent moon he’d drawn was lit on the right side: a waxing moon. I asked him if that felt true, that the energy was beginning to return.

“Yes,” he said. “I know I’m through the worst of it.”

“When you hit new moon again,” I said, “—because we always do—what will be different?”

He looked at his drawing for another moment and I saw the first smile I’d seen since he walked in the door.

“I won’t force myself to act like full moon,” he said. “I’ll find some kind of tree to sleep in, for just a little while.”

So how do I work through my own intense feelings?

First, check in with yourself: what are you feeling, exactly? See if you can give it as specific a name as possible. Maybe when you let yourself look directly in the mirror of that overwhelm, you recognize anxiety, dread, and grief. Or maybe it’s rage and sorrow. Or exhaustion and disappointment.

Once you have named your feelings, find a character or archetype that represents those feelings for you. You can draw from mythology and fairy tales, of course, and we each have individual mythologies, too, that consist of characters from favorite books, shows, and our personal histories. It’s important that this character be larger-than-life— Thanos, for example, or Rumpelstiltskin, are better choices than your difficult second cousin.

When you’ve found your character, take some time away from other people—maybe on a walk, or in a room with something to write on. Let that character embody the full power of everything you are feeling. Imagine yourself watching them as this emotion courses through them. What might they say? What might they do? Now find a way to represent this safely (when we are working with amplification and imagination, it’s important that our work stay imaginal and not cross into decisions or actions that could impact your ordinary-reality life). You might curate a playlist that evokes this character and dance it out. You might write a dialogue between yourself and this character. You might draw the most evocative aspects of this character’s story, as my client did.

The important thing is that you let this archetype hold some of your suffering for you. Now that the suffering is outside of you, it’s possible to see it and relate to it without being overwhelmed by it. And that makes it possible to work through it, a little at a time.

Here’s to finding trees to sleep in, and to the bravery of stirring our salt into larger and larger stories.

Thank you to my client for sharing his story.

We often think the process of overwhelm is best handled by decreasing external stressors. But we can also approach overwhelm by increasing our inner resources. If you have ever been curious about how to work with your dream imagery to create strength, resilience, and meaning in your life, join Lissa and Julie for an all-day dreamwork retreat this September. Learn more below.

what if I am not a good person?

March 7, 2022 Lissa Carter

by Lissa Carter, LCMHC

It’s been a while since my last blog post, and I’ll be honest with you, it’s because people are struggling. I have never been so busy. Let me just say this now, in case you need to hear it: if you are strained, exhausted, overwhelmed, sad, or hurting, you are not alone. These have been some hard years.

There’s an old story about a man who was so wounded by the unanticipated arrow that came out of nowhere that he grabbed a second arrow from his quiver and stabbed himself through the heart.

The world sends us first arrows when we lose an important relationship, or a source of income, or a dream we longed for. It sends first arrows when we are oppressed or targeted, or when we don’t match the culture’s idea of what beauty, success, or talent look like. It sends first arrows when we face a drought or a pandemic or a war.

First arrows are not our fault. The only way to deal with a first arrow is to apply first aid. If you are hungry, or cold, or grieving, or facing someone else’s prejudice or hatred, that needs to be addressed with heat and food and ritual and systemic change. Not with counseling, although counselors can help you find resources.

However, just like the old man in the story, many of us react to first arrows with second arrows. We lose a relationship, and we say “I always guessed I was unlovable.” Or we lose a job and think “I’ll never be successful; I’m just not smart enough.” We face the grief of a lengthy pandemic and say '“I am not made of tough enough stuff…everyone else seems to be pulling through okay”. These second arrows can do terrible harm, and we do have control over them.

What do I mean by this?

Well, a client walked into my office recently and announced “I am not a good person.”

She was in a lot of pain because she had said something she could not take back. The thing she had said was impulsive and mean-spirited. It went against her value system. Looking at that message she could never un-send, my client was flooded with dislike for herself.

Has this ever happened to you?

Have you ever said or done something that you knew was wrong, or against your values, or that you knew would hurt someone else, but somehow you could not stop yourself from doing it?

Here is something I know to be true: we all think and feel and imagine truly terrible things. We are given the full spectrum of human emotions at birth, and this includes rage, contempt, revulsion, regret, resentment, detachment, fury, and envy. They are part of the package. We are going to feel them.

Here is something else I know to be true: if a small child feels fury, and is told that her fury is wrong and shameful, that child may stop demonstrating fury. But she will not stop feeling it.

Now, every time that child feels fury, she will tell herself: “I should not feel this way”. First arrow. Second arrow.

Imagine that you were in a space of righteous fury about something unjust that had happened to you. Imagine that you are telling a friend about it, and he remarks “but you shouldn’t feel angry. Anger is wrong.” Do you feel better? Or worse?

What if he remarks “I can understand why you are feeling so angry. Do you want me to help you express your anger safely?”

The first response adds an arrow. The second response applies first aid.

Now: how do you talk to yourself when you are feeling angry? Frightened? Scared? Contemptuous? Disgusted? Are you adding arrows or taking them away?

I have never seen a bigger, more poisonous arrow than “I am not a good person”. Where is my client supposed to go from there?

What if, instead, my client looked at those words she had written and said “I must have been in so much pain to have written that. I can have compassion for the part of me that was hurting enough to write something so cruel.”

Now we are back in the arena of kindness and compassion. In offering compassion to herself, my client is behaving in line with her values. And once that second arrow is taken care of, she can address the first arrow.

That first arrow—the hurt that caused the confrontation in the first place—can be much more skilfully addressed if my client is not distracted and sore from the second and third and fourth arrows she was continuing to jab into herself.

Because the truth is: I don’t believe in good or bad people. I believe in good or bad actions. And I know that people are more likely to perform bad actions when they are in pain.

Please take care of yourselves out there. If you make a mistake, breathe through it, have compassion for the part of you that messed up, and tend to that first arrow. Gently make amends and start again. Try not to make things worse with second arrows of self-judgment or wounding beliefs. We are all in this together. If you need help, reach out.

If you are in need of counseling, Julie King Murphy has recently joined our practice and is accepting new clients! You can read more about her work here.

How do I find a good counselor?

October 3, 2021 Lissa Carter

By Lissa Carter, LCMHC

Update, 3/7/22: I’m delighted to announce the addition of Julie King Murphy, JD, NCC, LCMHCA to our practice! Julie is accepting new clients and is seeing people in person and via telehealth. Learn more about Julie here.

I’ve been receiving inquiries from a lot of wonderful people lately, people who are attempting to prioritize their mental health and are struggling to find a counselor to work with. Sometimes I wish that I could work with every single person who reaches out to me. I hate it when my practice is full and I have to turn people away, even though I know there are thousands of wonderful counselors out there, many who might be an even better fit than I would have been. I hate it because I know that, when a person is struggling and suffering, even the tiniest setback can feel insurmountable, and when your vulnerable request for help is answered with a formulaic “I am not accepting new clients right now” the feeling of rejection could be enough to stop you from trying again.

Let me start by stating an unfortunate truth: finding a counselor is not an easy process. It is not a simple process. And ever since the COVID-19 pandemic, finding a counselor who has openings for new clients has been more difficult than ever.

I’m hoping this post can offer, at the very least, some answers to the questions that people looking for a counselor ask most frequently---and the ones they might not know how to ask. I’m hoping it can demystify mental health lingo, empower you to ask for what you need, and offer you a sense of greater agency in both the search for a counselor and, later, within the counseling relationship.

I’ll pose questions in the likely order you would need to ask them, as you engage in the process of finding a counselor for yourself or someone you care about.

Would a counselor help me?

In general, if you are experiencing difficulty in familial, intimate, or work relationships, overwhelm, anxiety, depression, grief, anger, a sense of futility, a sense of helplessness, attacks of panic, self-loathing, seeing or hearing things that others don’t see or hear, role changes (such as becoming a parent, losing a child, divorce, marriage, loss of a parent, dramatic change in career, health, or identity), discomfort in your relationship with substances, food, sex, media, alcohol, and/or other coping mechanisms, confusion about your own behavior patterns, or a sense that accustomed methods of handling emotions and thoughts are no longer working for you, counseling can help.
If you are feeling dissatisfied with your career, education, or finances; or you are struggling in a specific area of life that has more to do with a deficiency of skills than with emotional or mental problems, you might be better served by seeking out an employment, financial, or life coach, or by taking a class that will teach you the necessary skills. If you are being targeted, bullied, profiled, or abused, legal recourse followed by counseling might be the most helpful course of action.

Will counseling take away my symptoms? Or should I seek medication first?

If your anxiety, depression, helplessness, or thoughts/beliefs/feelings are so debilitating that you cannot realistically engage in the process of counseling, you might consider medication as a first course of action. Talk to your primary care physician or psychiatrist (if you have one) about how you are feeling and ask if medication can help. Studies show us that a combination of medication and counseling is more effective, in most cases, than medication alone, so once you are feeling regulated enough, revisit the idea of counseling.
Another caveat here—counseling actually won’t take away your symptoms. A good counseling relationship is more about learning new ways of relating to your thoughts, feelings, relationships, and behaviors. Can counseling change your life and offer you relief? Yes. Will you walk away from counseling and never experience anxiety, depression, or suffering again? No---because these experiences are part of being human. However, a good counseling relationship can help you handle these experiences in a much more compassionate, much less debilitating way.

Okay, I think counseling can help. Where do I start?

There are several important considerations here. I’ll take them one by one.

a. Financial investment.

Do you have insurance? If so, you may want to call your provider and learn what their mental health copay is. Ask if you can see mental health providers that are out of network, and if so, what the increase in your cost would be. Ask if seeing a mental health provider will cause your insurance provider to mark you as having a “pre-existing” health condition that will increase your insurance rates. Ask if your insurance has limits on the number of mental health sessions you can engage in per year, and if you have to meet a deductible before they start paying for mental health. Ask if they cover the issue you will be seeking help with (most insurances—don’t get me started—won’t cover family or couples therapy at all). If you know you want to use your insurance, the first place to start your search for a counselor is through your insurance provider’s database of in-network counselors.

Are you uninsured? Check into free local programs; the VA offers free counseling for veterans and many nonprofits offer free counseling to certain populations. Call 211 or visit https://www.211.org to discover local nonprofits offering counseling in your area. You can also ask if your school or place of work offers counseling; many universities and schools have onsite counseling and increasingly the workplace offers EAP or EAN (Employee Assistance Plan or Network) services with anonymous free counseling. You can also try https://openpathcollective.org , an alliance of counselors that offer low-cost, sliding scale counseling to the un- or under-insured.

On search tools like https://beingseen.org, https://www.therapyden.com, https://www.atherapistlikeme.org, and https://www.psychologytoday.com/us, you can search for a therapist that accepts your insurance. You can also filter by licensure type and modality (see below) and check to see that the therapist practices in-person or telehealth, is accepting new clients, and/or has experience with the particular issue you hope to address.

b. Licensure.

Licensed counselors have completed rigorous education, supervision, and testing processes and maintain ongoing continuing education. I cannot overemphasize the importance of making sure that your counselor is licensed. Licensure is separate from education—you can complete a master’s degree in mental health counseling, psychology, or social work without attaining licensure.

That said, there is an alphabet soup of licenses that can make it really difficult to know what to look for. Here’s a quick glossary: For every licensure, there is an associate level (such as LCAS-A, LPCA, LCMHC-A, LCSW-A, and so on) which means that the counselor has passed a counseling exam and is under supervision while they accrue the hours of experience necessary for full licensure. Then there is the full licensure level (LCSW, LCAS, LPC, LCMHC, and so on) and the supervisory licensure level (LCMHCS, CSI, and so on) which means the counselor has undergone additional training to supervise other counselors.

Very generally, you would seek an LMFT (licensed marriage and family therapist) if you are interested in couples or family counseling, an LPC (licensed professional counselor) or LCMHC (licensed clinical mental health counselor) if you are interested in mental health counseling, an LCAS (licensed clinical addictions specialist) if you are interested in substance use counseling, and an LCSW (licensed clinical social worker) if you are interested in mental health counseling with a larger systems/case management approach.

However, you may come across LCMHCs who are highly trained in couples and family work, LCSWs who specialize in somatic and trauma work, LMFTs who specialize in working with adolescents, and so on. We’ll cover trainings and modalities in the next question. However, if you have found a counselor and they are licensed, you can certainly ask them about their training and experience in the specific issues you are seeking help with. For a more comprehensive glossary of mental health titles, go here: https://www.networktherapy.com/directory/credentials.asp

If you know you want to see a therapist with a specific licensure, start your search by googling the licensure board for your state (i.e.; north Carolina licensure board for marriage and family therapists, or California licensure board for clinical addiction specialists). Most licensure boards keep a directory of therapists licensed in your state.

c. Modality

To complicate things further, counselors train in specific modalities after completing their general education. These modalities may target a specific issue, or they may constitute a broad theory/approach to counseling.

You may be drawn to a specific modality because studies show it is the most effective for your particular set of symptoms, such as DBT (dialectical behavior therapy) for the diagnosis of borderline personality disorder; or ERP (exposure and response prevention) for a diagnosis of obsessive-compulsive disorder; or EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing) for single-incident traumas.

Or you may be drawn to a specific modality because it matches your comfort or interests (Expressive Arts therapy for the creatively inclined, dance or movement therapy for those who prefer to process nonverbally, SE (somatic experiencing) for those who prefer to go inward and connect with the wisdom of the body, narrative therapy for those who enjoy writing and metaphor, etc. )

There are so many modalities that I cannot begin to do them justice here. Browse this list to learn more: https://www.goodtherapy.org/learn-about-therapy/types

If you have worked with a therapist you particularly enjoyed, ask them what modality or theory they practiced.

If you know you want to work with a counselor trained in a specific modality, you can use any of the popular therapist search engine tools like https://beingseen.org, https://www.therapyden.com, https://www.atherapistlikeme.org, or https://www.psychologytoday.com/us and filter your search results by the modality you want. Make sure to follow up by asking the counselor, during your consultation, what training they have completed in that modality.

I found a licensed counselor who works with the modality that interests me. Now what?

First of all, I highly recommend that you start with a short list of 3 to 5 counselors instead of just choosing one. This will empower you to find the best fit instead of pressuring you to stay with the first counselor you call. It will also help keep the ball rolling if you hit a scheduling roadblock or discover that the counselor you hoped to work with has no openings. Let’s be real: the process I am describing is a ton of work at any time, and when your mental health is suffering it can be downright exhausting. You don’t want to lose steam and give up because the one person you picked is nonresponsive or doesn’t feel like a good fit.

Visit the website of the counselors you have picked out (again, use sites like https://beingseen.org,https://www.therapyden.com, https://www.atherapistlikeme.org, https://www.psychologytoday.com/us and https://openpathcollective.org to generate leads) and read some of their blog posts and how they describe their work. Does it feel like a good fit? If not, trust your gut and move on.

If you like what you see, and the counselor is licensed and accepting new clients, schedule a consultation with them. Most counselors offer a free consultation by telephone, telehealth, or in person. Usually you can book this directly on the counselor’s website or by calling them.

Again, make sure you schedule at least 3-5 consultations so you don’t feel pressured to go with a counselor who might not be a good fit. Shop around. The highest predictor of success in mental health counseling is a good therapeutic relationship, so you really want to pick someone you feel comfortable with, not just the person with the most years of experience or the best-sounding degree or the most polished website.

What should I ask the counselor during the consultation?

The most important advice I have here is this: Remember that you are interviewing them. Sometimes an odd power dynamic arises in therapy where the client can feel as though the counselor is the expert and has all the power. Try to remember that this is a job interview, and you get to decide if you want to hire this counselor.

Don’t be afraid to ask questions about cost, frequency, and scheduling. Trust your sense of whether this person is warm, compassionate, and nonjudgmental enough that you would feel safe talking about vulnerable feelings and experiences. If you have had bad experiences in counseling before, bring that situation up as a hypothetical and ask how the counselor would handle it. For example, “if a client came to you and shared that they were feeling angry enough to hurt a family member, how would you handle it?” or, “if a client shared a difference of opinion or a critique with you in session, how would you handle it?” Ask about the counselor’s experience with the issue that you are struggling with, and ask about their training in the modalities that interest you.

Make sure to assess whether the counselor has openings that fit your schedule, accepts your insurance, and meets in person/via telehealth (whatever your preference might be). Don’t be afraid to ask about their safety protocols for COVID, or whether their office is ADA-accessible.

The most important thing is that you feel comfortable with the counselor you choose. We can’t do good work with people we do not feel comfortable with. I would even go so far as to say that you should feel the counselor genuinely cares about you as a person and is interested and curious about what you have to say. Whatever their level of expertise, it is only as good as their ability to communicate and share it with you.

What if I find more than one counselor I like?

There are many incredible counselors out there! One question that can help you discern whom to work with if you’ve found more than one viable candidate is “what voice is missing in my life?”

Here’s what I mean by this. Some of us are surrounded by critical, argumentative people. In that case, it could be helpful to choose a counselor who offers lots of compassionate support. Some of us are surrounded by unconditionally loving friends who automatically take our side. In that case, it could be helpful to choose a counselor who is more direct and confrontational. Some of us need a directive voice in our lives, a voice that offers scaffolding and objectives to help us reach our goals. Others have too much of that already and need a voice that urges self-compassion instead of perfectionism. What voice is missing in your life? Hint: it’ll probably belong to the counselor that makes you feel a little bit anxious/nervous/excited because you can sense this relationship may lead to actual change.

How will I know when to leave counseling?

There are a few red flags that indicate you should leave counseling. These include:

The counselor breaks confidentiality by talking to people you have not authorized them to talk to (this does not include their legal responsibility to report in certain situations, all of which should be covered in the initial paperwork you sign)
The counselor makes sexual advances toward you or violates your physical boundaries without consent
You do not feel safe enough with the counselor to open up (perhaps the counselor has been inattentive or disrespectful, or has acted angry, blaming, or rude without attempting to repair the relationship)
The counselor does not respect the terms of your contract (cancels sessions without warning, changes the price and/or terms of counseling indiscriminately, is unresponsive when you attempt to communicate, does not listen to your feedback)
You have been showing up regularly, practicing any exercises the counselor offers, and participating fully in each session, but you are not experiencing any change or any progress toward your goals. When you bring this up with your counselor, they dismiss you, act defensive, or refuse to make any changes.

Note the difference between feeling uncomfortable/challenged and feeling unsafe. Good counseling takes us onto new ground and out of our comfort zone. It can be tempting to leave counseling when it gets uncomfortable, so ask yourself this question: “Is this discomfort in service to becoming who I want to be as a human being? Are the uncomfortable feelings I am experiencing right now in the interest of helping me achieve my goals?” If the answer is yes, push through. If the answer is no, it might be time to find a new counselor.

If you have found a great counselor and have addressed most of your goals in counseling, you may find that although you are feeling better you do not want to leave the counseling relationship because it is helpful or enjoyable to have this time to talk through the challenges of life in a supportive environment.

If you find that most of your sessions feel conversational, and counseling poses a financial burden, it’s worth evaluating whether you wish to continue in counseling or if you may be ready to leave. Please note that there is nothing wrong with continuing in counseling for as long as you wish, but it is always your choice to leave when you are ready. Don’t be afraid to talk it through with your counselor if you think you are ready to leave.

I hope that this post is helpful, although it is by no means comprehensive!

One of my most cherished hopes for my vocation is that mental health can become easier, simpler, and less expensive to access. In the meantime, please reach out for any support or help you need in navigating the process.

You are worth the time and effort it takes to find the right counselor. You matter, and you do not have to suffer alone.

If you have questions or suggestions, please feel free to comment below or email me directly at innerlightasheville@gmail.com.

Hard things are hard

November 18, 2020 Lissa Carter

by Lissa Carter, LCMHC

I can’t presume to know what life is like for you as you read this. I can share that, lately, life for many of my clients has looked like one unrelenting challenge after another. It wears you down. I would like to speak to the part of you that is exhausted, overwhelmed, and grieving:

It’s okay. You are not alone. Of course you are tired. Of course you are sad. You are allowed this, you are allowed to travel the full spectrum of the human heart, and this spectrum includes some times when living feels like a hardship. That’s part of the dignity of being human.

You don’t have to fix it. You don’t have to paste on a smile or a stoic expression and plow through as though all is well. You are allowed to face the day, the world, your life, with the emotions and thoughts that are true for you.

And yet life does not wait for us to grieve or rage or collapse. There are children that need to be fed and work meetings that need to be attended and trash that needs to be taken out to the curb, and none of these things have stopped because of our exhaustion.

Still, there is a subtle difference we can cultivate here if we practice compassion toward ourselves. It looks like standing at the stove, preparing breakfast for the children, letting the tears roll down your cheeks. Letting your family see that today, it is hard, and you can do hard things.

It looks like dressing in an article of clothing that through its weave or color calls in the strength and resilience of your ancestors, or a bracelet that was given by a friend and can symbolize, for you, her kindness or her courage. In this way you can mirror to the outer world your inner life (there is a whole fascinating history here, the kosmetikos, that I will one day devote an entire blog to).

It looks like answering “How are you?” with honesty that respects your true feelings: “It’s been a rough day, but I am finding the strength to do what needs to be done.”

Every day offers us numerous choice points, when we can choose to move toward the person we want to be or choose to move away from sensations of discomfort. Choosing to move toward the person we want to be does not eliminate the discomfort. But it does help us shoulder it with a sense of agency, with the knowledge that in doing this hard thing we are choosing to show up to life in a way that matters to us. There is a power in that.

We face so many moments in our lives in which pain is unavoidable. There’s a wonderful metaphor from Acceptance and Commitment Therapy that I use for myself and for my clients in these moments:

You are standing at a train station. You are headed north to attend the wedding of a beloved friend. The southbound train pulls in to the platform behind you, and the train is lovely to behold: shining, polished, its passengers ensconced in comfortable velvet seats with personal entertainment systems.

Then your train pulls in , at the northbound platform. It is in horrifying shape, rusty, decrepit; the windows are smeared and the passengers look shifty. You are reluctant to board this train, so you wait, and it pulls away. No matter, you think; another train will pull up.

Another train does pull up, but it is just as decrepit as the first. What do you choose to do?

Do you continue to wait, possibly even missing the event you had so looked forward to?

Do you board a southbound train, carrying yourself away from your destination, but enjoying a comfortable journey?

Or do you take a deep breath and board the train north, knowing that even though it will cause some discomfort it is carrying you toward the place you want to be?

We can spend our whole lives waiting for the “right” train that never arrives.

There is discomfort in doing hard things. But there is also a terrible cost incurred in avoiding them, in turning away from them, in letting the train go by.

We are in a moment together—-as a species and as a planet—in which there is no easy choice. We are being asked to shoulder discomfort again and again. I want you to know that you are not alone in your weariness, in your sadness, in your pain. And I know that we can do hard things, and we can be compassionate to ourselves as we do them. You deserve to show up as the person you want to be, even when it is hard.

Instead of pushing yourself mindlessly through the slog today, take a moment to dig into your personal “why”:

I am making breakfast for my kids because it matters to me to send them into the world with warm and nourished bellies.

I am attending this meeting because I want to show my coworkers that they are seen and that they matter.

I am brushing my teeth because I respect the elder I will become, and I want her to be free of tooth pain so that she can focus on saving the world.

When we get in touch with the deeply personal meaning underlying the challenges we face, we infuse them with purpose. And that does not make hard things any easier, but it does make them more meaningful.

How is this relevant to therapy?

The past leaves its thumbprint on us. Once we have awoken to a pattern of behavior, we have the thumbprint—the ghost map. It tells us a story about the thumb—the thing that happened in the past that taught us to behave this way.

Next time you find yourself confused by your own behavior, or the behavior of someone you love, ask yourself or your loved one these four questions, adapted from the work of Terry Real:

“Who behaved this way when you were growing up?”

“Who acted this behavior out on you?”

“When did you enact this behavior as a child without anyone stopping you?”

“Who hurt you by behaving the opposite of the way you are behaving?”

If we have a reason for the way we are acting, we can generate more compassion and understanding. This leads to healthier relationships, fewer arguments, and a deeper understanding of our own lives and the lives of those we love.

Noticing ghost maps is a beautiful way to begin tracking and understanding our layered relational realities… the foundation stones below the lines of daffodils.

Would you like to hear a story?

Through amplification, counterintuitively, comes relief.

The Depression is Taking me Over

So how do I work through my own intense feelings?

Here’s to finding trees to sleep in, and to the bravery of stirring our salt into larger and larger stories.

There’s an old story about a man who was so wounded by the unanticipated arrow that came out of nowhere that he grabbed a second arrow from his quiver and stabbed himself through the heart.

What do I mean by this?

Well, a client walked into my office recently and announced “I am not a good person.”

She was in a lot of pain because she had said something she could not take back. The thing she had said was impulsive and mean-spirited. It went against her value system. Looking at that message she could never un-send, my client was flooded with dislike for herself.

Has this ever happened to you?

Have you ever said or done something that you knew was wrong, or against your values, or that you knew would hurt someone else, but somehow you could not stop yourself from doing it?

Here is something else I know to be true: if a small child feels fury, and is told that her fury is wrong and shameful, that child may stop demonstrating fury. But she will not stop feeling it.

Now, every time that child feels fury, she will tell herself: “I should not feel this way”. First arrow. Second arrow.

Imagine that you were in a space of righteous fury about something unjust that had happened to you. Imagine that you are telling a friend about it, and he remarks “but you shouldn’t feel angry. Anger is wrong.” Do you feel better? Or worse?

What if he remarks “I can understand why you are feeling so angry. Do you want me to help you express your anger safely?”

The first response adds an arrow. The second response applies first aid.

Now: how do you talk to yourself when you are feeling angry? Frightened? Scared? Contemptuous? Disgusted? Are you adding arrows or taking them away?

I have never seen a bigger, more poisonous arrow than “I am not a good person”. Where is my client supposed to go from there?

What if, instead, my client looked at those words she had written and said “I must have been in so much pain to have written that. I can have compassion for the part of me that was hurting enough to write something so cruel.”

Now we are back in the arena of kindness and compassion. In offering compassion to herself, my client is behaving in line with her values. And once that second arrow is taken care of, she can address the first arrow.

That first arrow—the hurt that caused the confrontation in the first place—can be much more skilfully addressed if my client is not distracted and sore from the second and third and fourth arrows she was continuing to jab into herself.

Because the truth is: I don’t believe in good or bad people. I believe in good or bad actions. And I know that people are more likely to perform bad actions when they are in pain.

If you are in need of counseling, Julie King Murphy has recently joined our practice and is accepting new clients! You can read more about her work here.

Update, 3/7/22: I’m delighted to announce the addition of Julie King Murphy, JD, NCC, LCMHCA to our practice! Julie is accepting new clients and is seeing people in person and via telehealth. Learn more about Julie here.

Would a counselor help me?

Will counseling take away my symptoms? Or should I seek medication first?

Okay, I think counseling can help. Where do I start?

There are several important considerations here. I’ll take them one by one.

a. Financial investment.

b. Licensure.

c. Modality

I found a licensed counselor who works with the modality that interests me. Now what?

What should I ask the counselor during the consultation?

What if I find more than one counselor I like?

How will I know when to leave counseling?

I hope that this post is helpful, although it is by no means comprehensive!

One of my most cherished hopes for my vocation is that mental health can become easier, simpler, and less expensive to access. In the meantime, please reach out for any support or help you need in navigating the process.

You are worth the time and effort it takes to find the right counselor. You matter, and you do not have to suffer alone.

I can’t presume to know what life is like for you as you read this. I can share that, lately, life for many of my clients has looked like one unrelenting challenge after another. It wears you down. I would like to speak to the part of you that is exhausted, overwhelmed, and grieving:

It’s okay. You are not alone. Of course you are tired. Of course you are sad. You are allowed this, you are allowed to travel the full spectrum of the human heart, and this spectrum includes some times when living feels like a hardship. That’s part of the dignity of being human.

You don’t have to fix it. You don’t have to paste on a smile or a stoic expression and plow through as though all is well. You are allowed to face the day, the world, your life, with the emotions and thoughts that are true for you.

And yet life does not wait for us to grieve or rage or collapse. There are children that need to be fed and work meetings that need to be attended and trash that needs to be taken out to the curb, and none of these things have stopped because of our exhaustion.

Still, there is a subtle difference we can cultivate here if we practice compassion toward ourselves. It looks like standing at the stove, preparing breakfast for the children, letting the tears roll down your cheeks. Letting your family see that today, it is hard, and you can do hard things.

It looks like answering “How are you?” with honesty that respects your true feelings: “It’s been a rough day, but I am finding the strength to do what needs to be done.”

We face so many moments in our lives in which pain is unavoidable. There’s a wonderful metaphor from Acceptance and Commitment Therapy that I use for myself and for my clients in these moments:

Then your train pulls in , at the northbound platform. It is in horrifying shape, rusty, decrepit; the windows are smeared and the passengers look shifty. You are reluctant to board this train, so you wait, and it pulls away. No matter, you think; another train will pull up.

Another train does pull up, but it is just as decrepit as the first. What do you choose to do?

Do you continue to wait, possibly even missing the event you had so looked forward to?

Do you board a southbound train, carrying yourself away from your destination, but enjoying a comfortable journey?

Or do you take a deep breath and board the train north, knowing that even though it will cause some discomfort it is carrying you toward the place you want to be?

We can spend our whole lives waiting for the “right” train that never arrives.

There is discomfort in doing hard things. But there is also a terrible cost incurred in avoiding them, in turning away from them, in letting the train go by.

Instead of pushing yourself mindlessly through the slog today, take a moment to dig into your personal “why”:

I am making breakfast for my kids because it matters to me to send them into the world with warm and nourished bellies.

I am attending this meeting because I want to show my coworkers that they are seen and that they matter.

I am brushing my teeth because I respect the elder I will become, and I want her to be free of tooth pain so that she can focus on saving the world.

When we get in touch with the deeply personal meaning underlying the challenges we face, we infuse them with purpose. And that does not make hard things any easier, but it does make them more meaningful.

Please do not hesitate to reach out if you need help. We are in this together.