Category: Health/Psychology

In my years as a psychologist, I have come to believe that most people seeking psychotherapy are unhappy. This is not only due to earlier hurts and traumas, as well as present frustrations and problems, but because they cannot access earlier happy moments often enough. The unfortunate result is not being able to experience enough positive states of well-being. It is these unique states of well being that I have come to label "The Enchanted Self."

Do you often feel overwhelmed by your environment or the people around you? Has anyone ever called you shy, or worse: “too sensitive?” Do you care deeply about everything? You may be a highly sensitive soul, a person of deep empathy and high intensity, with powerful intuition, awareness, and intelligence.

Healthy Alternatives by Susie Cooper, NDBoard Certified Doctor of Naturopathy

Depression is a mood disorder which can be of short or long duration. It can have a variable degree of severity. Headaches, muscular aches, chronic tiredness and sleep disorders are just a few of the symptoms. Depression can also be triggered by medications or physical disease of another sort. Psychotherapy is the normal, orthodox approach to depression as well as prescription antidepressants.

At this time of the year, it's almost impossible not to contemplate what the ancients called the "wheel of the year." During the rest of the year, we may be aware that the progression of the seasons mimics the progression of our own lives, but at no time is this more evident than during the thirty days or so after the winter solstice.

We are living in a civilization where it has become commonplace to pass pain around. Anyone can be vulnerable as they struggle to live. We all have witnessed the bullying and disrespect that generate helpless feelings in our workplace, our schools, with our neighbors, and within our families. While terrorism may be the overt manifestation of the insanity of passing pain onto others, hidden terrorism continues in each of us whenever we use one another as containers for our pain and carelessly discard them. Everyone's light is dimmed and lessons are lost when we use our pain as the new weapon of mass destruction.

Although I risk dissension by doing so, I must say something that I think many of us in the mental health community have acknowledged for quite some time: every single diagnosis of a mental disorder is fallible.

Before I proceed, I should note the value of diagnoses. They are immensely useful categorical tools. The human being cannot productively navigate the uncertain tides of reality without the use of symbols and structures. Symbols and structures allow us to determine where our glasses end and our tables begin. Accordingly, when Patient A is compulsively cleaning her apartment and Patient B is speaking to invisible demons, it is important to have the words "Obsessive- Compulsive Disorder" to describe the former and the word "Schizophrenia" to describe the latter. Categorizations such as these not only help us to distinguish between ailments, they also assist us in making reliable behavioral predictions and selecting appropriate modes of treatment. I have no intention of ignoring these facts.

Carlos Santana is my brother. We are not related by blood, nor are we likely to ever meet, but he is my brother just the same. I discovered this while reading the March 16th, 2000 edition of "Rolling Stone," where he told writer Chris Heath about his painful experiences as a victim of a child molester. Since I am also a victim of childhood sexual abuse, we belong to a brotherhood, a strange kinship defined by a shared experience. With due respect to Santana, I would be just as happy if he was not my brother, if I were an orphan in the family of abuse victims. No child should have to suffer sexual abuse.

For fifteen years I have been treating couples and individuals with sexual issues and have been amazed by the sheer numbers of women reporting that they have little desire for sex in their long-term relationships. Patients tell me, “I really want to feel desire. I don’t know why it’s not working.” Clinics like Masters and Johnson estimate that fully one out of three women in long-term relationships are distressed by lack of desire.

Often, what’s holding women back from feeling sexual passion is old wounds from unfinished business of the past. The concept of unfinished business is popular in psychology and generally refers to emotional traumas and hurts, great and small, that are holding you back from being truly present in your life. We are all susceptible to hidden bedroom “partners” which stifle our responses just as if they were real life spectators that sabotage sexual desire. These hidden spectators are the voices of our parents, previous partners, abusers, and any other sex negative influences we have experienced in our lives.

Let us first consider the role of time in our lives, then let us consider that role in terms of mental illness. Buddhists and Hindus, among others, propose that time does not actually exist. The Western world, however, with its dependence on clocks and deadlines, scoffs at such a notion, relying upon sayings such as “Time is money” and “Time is of the essence.”

A healing of heart and mind can happen when we least expect it. Such a process has been happening for someone I care about very much, my husband. We both feel led to share his experience with others, in hopes that it will inspire you in your life and open you to healing on all levels. – S.C.

The Essence of Family

The rain storm came in fast and furious, wind whipping down the street, sound of the downpour resonating on the metal awning out front. It was a quiet Saturday, most folks not caring to go out on a day with such a threatening sky. I took the opportunity to get caught up on some things in the office. All of a sudden I heard a screaming outside, at my front door. Shocked, I quickly looked out to see what the trouble was, and saw a tiny, little girl, who was seeking shelter in the alcove of my front door, just howling away while the rain was pouring down. She was shaking, and wailing, and sobbing, gripping her little hands together, and looking out at the heavy rain pounding down the street. I started towards her from in my shop, and then I saw a strong set of arms scoop her up, and heard the voice of the mother saying, “It’s alright sweetheart, it’s OK. It’s just some rain.” She stopped crying immediately.