Fear of flying is a difficult phobia to treat with conventional therapy techniques. Therapists often attempt to treat this phobia with standard cognitive-behavioral techniques, but run into roadblocks because of realistic obstacles. For example, systematic desensitization runs into problems because nowadays a person can only get to security without a ticket. So a person can't just build up steps to the flight the way a person can do with, say, going to the high floor of a building in an elevator. Many therapists also attempt to treat this fear by focusing on relaxation techniques: mindfulness, meditation, etc. These are useful and can be helpful, but are generally not enough on their own when trying to overcome fear of flying. Some airlines try to help this phobia by offering courses to learn about flying, why it's safe, and all of the logical components of this issue. But this is rarely, if ever, enough to overcome this fear. While the professionals referenced above have good intentions, fear of flying is difficult to treat without a multi-faceted approach that specifically focuses on fear of flying itself. In other words, flying phobia requires its own focused approach.
This topic can take an entire book to talk about, so this post alone will probably not do it justice. When people think of therapy, many people think that "good therapy" means that you feel good in therapy all the time, and that if you're not feeling good in therapy, then you're receiving "bad therapy." This is far from accurate, and this perception can prematurely end treatments for people that may have been very useful and effective if this phenomenon was better understood. On a fundamental level, therapy obviously does need a foundation of safety, support, trust, and caring between therapist and client. But therapy is complicated. Change is complicated. Life is complicated.
Maybe "misused" isn't a great word since it implies a form of external judgment. Therapy is generally whatever the person seeking therapy needs it to be. The purpose of therapy is different for each person; and what is therapeutic is also different for each person. Some may desire a person to be with them through the various daily life issues that present, and have someone to turn to who will fully hear, understand, and care for them no matter what comes up in life; someone else may want a deeper understanding of themselves in order to change repetitive and painful life patterns; others may want help with a more concrete approach to changing a specific behavior; some others may desire to have a person to whom they can show the most vulnerable parts of themselves, even if these parts aren't "pretty". Or it could be a combination of all of these, and more. The list goes on... However, it is worth giving further thought to a point I've seen come up from various perspectives in the therapy world.
Happiness is quite complicated, yet at the same time it really doesn't have to be. The problem with happiness is that there are certain fantasies that people hold onto that really distort a healthy sense of happiness. That being said, when it comes down to it, "happiness" is whatever it means for each person. However, movies, tv, media, and others have strongly influenced unrealistic expectations for what some people expect happiness to be.
I'm not naive enough (at least I don't think?) to think that I have the one reason that depression is such a difficult state of being. Depression has a different root for everyone -- and it's often a collection of sources, rather than just one thing contributing to depression. That being said, there is an overarching theme that I see with how people who are in depressive states experience depression, versus how people who are not in depressive states feel about depression.
Taking things apart can be such fun. It's a behavior often observed in children as they sit on the floor, building blocks, doing puzzles, etc., just to then turn around and destroy it, and then start over again. Or sometimes, it's taking apart household items and then attempting to restore them. Either way, this isn't only seen in children. Adults can also possess the drive to create, destroy, re-create, and so on. This can be in more obvious ways (and not all enactments of this process are 'unhealthy'), such as updating and re-updating a home, or having strings of relationships in which each new partner seems good at first, but then becomes expendable in favor of the newer, theoretically upgraded version of the last.
It's one of the most subtle, underlying questions that I hear in various forms nearly every day in my office. Some version of, "Am I going to become like my parents?", or "Please don't let me turn into my parents." Some people believe that they are doomed to the fate of carrying on their parents worst qualities, while others try their hardest to be as different from their parents and their parents' values as possible with the hope of drowning out any possible identification with their parents.
A while back, I wrote an article about why relationships break up. Though that article still stands, there are certainly things that could be added to it. Why do relationships actually break up? In another previous article, I discussed what causes attraction. In short, we as people tend to cut-off parts of ourselves that are unsafe or threatening in some way. For example, if we figured out when growing up that we would be scolded for being open and free-spirited in certain ways, it's possible we may become more reserved and close-off. What tends to happen with attraction is that we subconsciously find people both who remind us of "home" (family environment), emotionally, while also bringing in those previously cut-off parts of ourselves that we unconsciously crave. So if the closed-off person finds someone who is free-spirited, that's often an attractor because the person has learned that it's too risky to experience free-spirited feelings inside, and is now able to live out the free-spirited feelings externally, through another person.
While this isn't a direct relationship issue, being in a relationship with someone who struggles with migraines can have a significant impact on the relationship. This impact will be discussed more at length in a future post, but I hope this can be helpful to someone in your life who endures the migraine struggle. Can a specialized form of psychotherapy, geared towards relief in chronic migraine headaches, possibly be just as effective, if not more effective, than medication? It's long been assumed that when a person has a history of migraines, they have a purely medical (physiological) issue. This isn't necessarily incorrect, by any means. It certainly seems purely medical when a person has a debilitating headache, nausea, and visual and/or aural disturbances (along with many other types of migraine auras that exist). When there is a medical issue, usually medical treatments are utilized to resolve the issue (conventional and/or alternative treatments). But what happens when you exhaust the various medical approaches, and you still find yourself struggling with chronic migraines?
People love to make fun of the stereotyped therapy party line: "How does that make you feel?" Yes, it's one of the biggest cliches in the therapy field, however what this question stands for still remains an important piece of psychotherapy. When people come in for therapy, it's generally because they aren't happy with the way they are feeling, in one way or another. Whether it's about relationships, depression, anxiety, stress, jobs, career, or any other areas of life, the reasons people start therapy is both to help the concrete, external situations, but overall it's how these situations makes someone feel that matters most. Basically, if you're feeling good about something, then you probably wouldn't seek emotional help with it.