In July, I stopped seeing my therapist. It just wasn't a good fit.
It took me a while to see that. I kept thinking maybe I wasn't trying hard
enough or wasn't open to therapy or wasn't doing something I was suppose
to. Micheale told me, "You've got to stop thinking that you have to be
a certain way in therapy. It doesn't work that way."

My last session with that therapist lasted about 10 minutes, long enough for me
to confront him about some issues I had with our sessions and argue about
them. We both agreed it would be best if I saw someone else. I left
his office feeling as if I had been set free, but also very uneasy. Later I
told a friend, "it feels like we broke up or something."

I put off finding a new therapist the rest of the year. I had to much to
do at work...or I had to find a place to live...or the holidays were coming and
I was too busy. I had dozens of lame excuses.

The holiday season was particularly hard on me. I wasn't
prepared for it in general: all the decorations, food, people, shopping,
parties, merriment. I wanted none of it. No tree. No
gifts. No carols. I wanted to act like it was a completely different
month. A month with no celebrations or festivities.

In November I got an e-mail from my mother saying she wanted to spend Christmas
week with me. We hadn't seen each other for a couple years. I knew I wasn't
up a visit, but said yes because she is my mother. Also, she rarely gets a
break from taking care of my grandmother and knew she needed the rest.

I don't want to get into the specifics what transpired during her visit. Let's just say
- it didn't go well.

There is nothing quite like mothers and the
holidays to send you running back to the couch.

I'm on the phone with my new insurance company this morning so I can obtain
authorization to see a therapist. I switched to a new provider
during my benefits re-enrollment, because the medical part of my old insurance
was getting on my nerves. I had an HMO and all referrals to any specialist
had to come from my primary care physician, a man I was becoming increasingly
frustrated with after each encounter with him and his staff.

In April, I was having lower back pain and wanted to see a chiropractor. I
had treated back pain with chiropractic care in college with much success. A friend referred me to hers. I called and was happy when
they informed me they accepted my insurance. I called my doctor's office
and explained my situation and asked how to get a referral. The
office shrew informed me, "The doctor doesn't refer to chiro."

Bitch.

I ended up paying for two months of care all out of pocket. It was then I decided to 1)
find a new doctor and 2) find better insurance.

After I push all the buttons so the VRU can route me to the correct call center,
a woman name Janet asks me how she can help me. Her tone is as dry,
flat and stale as melba toast.

I explain I am calling to obtain authorization to see a therapist. She
asks for my name and subscriber number. I verify my date of birth, address
and home phone number. Then she asks why I am seeking counseling.

"General mental health and well being," I say slowly, puzzled by her
question. Why do you think I want to see a therapist you crag?
Just for kicks?

"And what specific problem are you seeking treatment for?" she
asks robotically.

"How is that relevant to you?" I snap.

"It helps me match you with a provider." I tell her I already
have someone in mind and that she is in their directory. I give her the
information. She gives me an authorization number and tells me what my
co-pay is. She then informs me that I am initially authorized for only eight
visits. After that time the provider can file for additional visits.

Eight visits!? My old therapist and I had barely scratched the surface
after two months. I ask how is it determined I qualify for additional
sessions. She explains a "certified life counselor" will review
the report and determine if I need additional help.

Fucking insurance
bullshit.

I know I shouldn't complain. After all, I do have insurance.
So many people don't. Some do and don't have sufficient mental health
coverage. I am fortunate. Also, I am covered for 60 visits a year, far more than I will possible need.
Well...sixty if the certified life counselor I never meet deems it.