“Psychologists are inclined to agree with us. We have spent thousands of dollars for examinations. We know but few instances where we have given these doctors a fair break. We have seldom told them the whole truth nor have we followed their advice.” (Page 73, Big Book)
I used to go and see psychiatrists and psychotherapists. I did tell them the truth. But I told them the truth about my thoughts. The problem was that my thoughts were there in great part because I was talking to a professional. I would not have gone down half of the rabbit holes I went down had I not had the professional in front of me. I used sessions to elaborate my reasons for unhappiness, and I succeeded. They were more elaborate as a result. The attempt to articulate the unhappiness amplified and furnished it. I went from vague senses of unhappiness to fully populated metaverses of unhappiness.
I never went near the actually causes of the unhappiness, which, with the programme, were revealed to be the following, amongst others:
I was irrationally pessimistic, and when others tried to point this out, I rejected what they said, because I thought I was more farsighted and comprehending than they were.
I was disorganised, selective, lazy, and tardy in fulfilling responsibilities, resistant to following direction or guidance, wilfully persistent in failed approaches, and expected success based on abstract talent alone.
I attention-sought and took no interest in the world or other people for their own sake.
I was vain, conceited, touchy, and contemptuous.
I drank prodigious quantities of alcohol and surrounded myself with other lowlifes.
Everything I said to the professionals was true in its own way; there was no conscious deception.
But what was necessary was the isolation of relevant truths and then following advice in order to change.
The professionals rarely if ever gave advice. I do not think it was part of their job.
I’ve had plenty of advice in AA, and that’s what I follow.