Why group therapy is amazing

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It’s not too late
Cause you are not alone
I’m always there with you

And we’ll get lost together
Till the light comes pouring through
‘Cause when you feel like you’re done
And the darkness has won

Babe, you’re not lost

– Michael Bublé, Lost

In my experience, group therapy is amazing. Let me tell you why.

When I was first diagnosed, I felt so alone. I felt like I was crazy and that no one could relate to what I was going through.
Then I started group therapy, and found out that that was not true at all.

The first group I joined was a circular group, where people would join as they were diagnosed. So it wasn’t necessarily the same people every time, as some were just beginning, and some were just finishing. There were three instructors: a psychologist, a nurse, and a doctor (I think. Or maybe it was a therapist. I don’t remember). Sometimes they were three, sometimes two.

The way it worked was you’d join the group, and after 3-4 months, you’d have gone through all the themes, and they would start over. So for instance, when I started, the theme was “causes for bipolar disorder.” Then we moved on to “indentity,” then “daily rhythms and structure,” and so on. The theme of my last session in this group was,”children and bipolar.” That last one was how to deal with life with kids when you have bipolar. It wasn’t super relevant for me, but it was still good to learn about. Other themes were “cognitive difficulties,” “medication and side-effects,” “The Diagnosis,” “depression,” “mania/hypomania,” “mixed state,” and “who do you tell, and what do you say?”
Then, when they were about to start discussing the theme “causes for bipolar disorder” again, it was time for me to leave the group.
This was all an introduction to bipolar – what it is, how it’s treated, triggers, strategies, etc.

Meeting with and listening to people of all ages, from different backgrounds, who suffer from the same disorder as me, was absolutely amazing. Although we were all different, we had this thing that we were dealing with. All newly diagnosed, all basically equally scared, insecure, and confused.
These weekly meetings became the highlight in my life at the time – a time when my boyfriend and I had broken up after more than four years, a time when I was heartbroken, had to move out of his apartment, uprooting myself completely, all the while starting medication and treatment for bipolar. Aaaand studying at university full-time.

Yeah… 2016 was probably the hardest year in my life.

This introduction group – along with my psychiatrist – really saved my ass. Actually, before that, the psychiatric emergency room at a local hospital close to where I lived also played a massive part in keeping me from totally giving up on life. There was about a month (I think) between turning to hospital psychiatry and actually getting an official diagnosis, where I was in a very deep depression. I was also moving in with a stranger, renting a room in his apartment (he turned out to be a dick – but that’s a story for another time!), while trying to deal with my break-up and keeping up with my classes at university. I desperately wanted to give up. So, to the psychiatric emergency room I went.

They recognized that I might soon become a danger to myself, and decided that I needed help until I could start treatment at Rigshospitalet. I was assigned a doctor, a nurse, and a psychologist. The nurse would pay me a weekly home-visit (we went for walks because I didn’t want my flatmate to find out), and I would have weekly meetings with the psychologist at the hospital. These people kept me afloat and got me through a really tough time until I was finally diagnosed. I am so grateful for the people who helped me – I got so lucky. I’ve heard too many horror stories to count about mistreatments and people experiencing so much resistance from the system. I’ve just been really damn lucky.

Okay, so back to group therapy. After I finished with the circular group, I had to wait for about 3 months before I could get into what they called the “psych-educational group,” which consisted of a steady group of people meeting once a week for 18 sessions. I was the youngest in the group, but there were a few others who were only a couple of years older than me. I think the oldest in the group was in his late fifties. But the age really didn’t matter much; I almost hurt my neck from all the nodding, because their stories and experiences were just so relatable. There were times when someone would describe something I’d experienced, word for word. And it wasn’t just me – everyone in the group felt this way.

It was incredible.

We went through new themes, expanded on some from the circular groups, and focused a lot more on each individual and their personal progress. The end-goal was for all of us to work out a plan of action for both depressive and (hypo-)manic episodes. (For more on plans of action, click here). After learning about ourselves and our individual triggers, symptoms, and warning signals, we wrote out a plan so that we might in the future be able to prevent an episode from escalating, or prevent it from developing all together!

On that Tuesday once a week, I didn’t feel alone. I felt understood, safe, and accepted. That I still have value.

We were all pretty sad during the last session. None of us wanted it to end. It was really hard going from group sessions once a week, to just monthly- or bi-monthly visits with my psychiatrist. We all tried to stay in touch afterwards, you know, creating a Facebook-group and everything. But it only took a couple of months before that went down the drain.

Last fall, I got lucky. There’s a place close to where I live now, called “Socialpsykiatrist Center Nord-Vest,” which loosely translates to “social-psychiatric center North-West (Copenhagen). They offer different courses and activities to support people with mental illnesses or people who are socially/mentally vulnerable. I’d never heard of it until a volunteer-based organization I follow, “En af Os,” posted on Facebook about this place called RecoveryLab that was offering a free course. And they just happened to have a few spots left for a course that was starting in two days. I sent an e-mail, and voilà – I got in! A session a week, 12 sessions, great people, each with their own challenges, absolutely wonderful. I’ve gained more friends, young and old. I’ve gotten especially close to one girl named Anna, and we hang out almost every week now. And again, the whole group – including our two instructors – were really sad when the course came to an end. We were hoping to get a second course in the beginning of this year, but the center didn’t get enough funding for it. Maybe this Spring – here’s hoping!

My conclusion: group therapy has worked wonders for me. Each group has taught me something new, or built upon what I had already learned. Although it’s hard and nerve-wrecking starting over in a new group, it’s been rewarding for me every time. Yes, my psychiatrist can understand to a certain extent, but she will never understand the way others with bipolar do, or people with depression or personality disorders in general.

Obviously, feeling all alone in the world is not good, whether you have a disorder or not. But with depression, for instance, feeling all alone in the world can be down-right dangerous. Finding someone who can relate to what you’re going through is great. Being with a group of people who can relate is amazing.

It doesn’t have to be a physical group, of course. In fact, it can be extremely difficult – and often impossible – to join a physical group if, for instance, you are in an anxious and/or depressive state. But there are tons of Facebook-groups and online forums where you can connect with others. Support and understanding is out there; you just have to google for it.

 

Return next Tuesday for a post on my attempt at starting my own business, and why I had to stop.