I had an in-take appointment with a new therapist on Friday. This time I went to the local GLBT center to find a therapist, since a big issue with the last one I tried was that I just didn’t feel comfortable discussing genderqueer stuff with her.
There was a funny moment when I was filling out all the paperwork before the appointment. One of the questionnaires was an inventory of depression symptoms – the exact same one I hand out to people where work. Once again, I have found myself on both sides of the desk. One of the quirks of being a psych major with a mental illness.
There was also a glorious moment during the session. I told my new therapist that I’ve been diagnosed with avoidant personality disorder. I was nervous sharing this, as always, because it tends to get dismissed. It’s not a disorder that the average therapist or psychiatrist seems to be deeply familiar with, I guess.
This time, the therapist took me seriously. But it gets better than that. Towards the end of the session, she told me that she’s read a lot about AvPD because she has it too.
Prior to that, I was thrilled just to have a therapist who had heard of AvPD. I never expected to meet one who has it too.
I feel hopeful now, and accepted, and heard. It’s kind of thrilling.