DBT Mouth Study ~ a tribute

I wish I could find this person! "This was the time I made the decision to quit DBT.Why? The fking diary cards! I have a real problem with minimizing my feelings into a number! 1-5 and ticking the stupid box. I am so much more than a statistic."

YES! You are more than a Statistic!

Here is a woman, Alicia, who attended a 5 day training on DBT and could not wait to write about all she learned!

However, after writing about 1 day of DBT, she seems to be so caught up in her "present moment" she did not update after day 1. Sadly, those of us who did not attend the *professional training* classes will forever be in the darkness about the training.

Or, maybe it was on the Linehan compound and she was "off'd" for opening her mouth...I'm not sure which..

http://www.dialectictherapy.com/

Precious the Cat

When I think about what CBT/ DBT methods have done for me personally, I remember a cat that my family of origin used to have. As usual in my household, my parents were incredibly irresponsible. The cat was allowed out any old time and was not spayed. Of course she got knocked up, though she was nearly still a kitten really. I remember when she had her kittens. She had the first two and then the third one got stuck. She had no competent human help and after a time she got up and just started walking around like that with the kitten half in and half out. It seemed to me that she could not expel the last kitten and she just got tired of trying. So, trapped in her situation with no help, she decided to just go on about her business as if nothing were wrong. She walked around the house like that all day as if it were nothing. Of course she was slowed, pained and dulled by her burden, but she seemed to carry the family status quo and decided to ignore it. I keenly remember that we had an electrician, plumber or some such come to the house that day. I remember my father wanted the cat out of sight. He truly resented the fact that she was walking the house in plain sight. He was embarrassed by her. He seemed angry, even. What would someone think to have to see such an unsavory thing walking around, right? No one cared that the cat was in a terrible mess, they only cared that someone might notice such a horror. Such has been the story of my life. And so I drag my burden and try to shut up and act normal even though it kills me slowly. Sometimes I look for a place to lay down my burden, but I know no deep sense of safety.

I used to function better than I do now. Yes, I was a mess on the inside, but I still functioned better. I had two sets of competing thoughts. One of them was practical and kept me going, the other set matched (and tried to explain) my terrible feelings. I don't remember those thoughts anymore. Therapy strengthened the practical set and pushed the set that matched my feelings way back into my unconscious. Now that set has been transformed and it torments me with hypochondria, flashbacks and nightmares than run my life no matter how badly I don't want them to.

Eventually, Precious the cat offloaded her dead burden outdoors somewhere. I am sure that kitten must have died. I wonder where she left it. I picture her as having left it in some barren and forsaken place. Some terrible wasteland, perhaps the only place that accepts such unwanted embarrassments -- a dumping ground for shame. I know that place well and I often long to get out of there, but I don't know how anymore. I used to know, but then I got 'help'. Now when people want to help me, I just automatically take my burden to the wasteland because that's what I've been trained to do. The humans keep hurting me and I don't know where else to go.

STUDY shows DBT did nothing to reduce depression or suicide ideation. (Isn't that what it was "designed" to do?)

Linehan (Linehan, Armstrong, Suarez, Allmon, & Heard, 1991) compared one group of 22 females (aged 18-45 years) with BPD who underwent DBT for 1 year and 22 matched females with BPD who underwent treatment as usual in the community. The subjects were assessed at pretreatment and at 4, 8, and 12 months posttreatment. There was a significant reduction in the frequency and medical risk of parasuicidal behavior among subjects who received DBT compared with subjects who received treatment as usual. The number of days of inpatient psychiatric hospitalization was fewer for subjects who received DBT than for controls, resulting in greater cost-effectiveness for DBT in spite of DBT intensive treatment design (that includes both individual and group psychotherapy, as well as accessibility for telephone consultation between sessions, for a one year period of time). While DBT was not shown differentially effective in improving patients' depression, hopelessness, suicide ideation, or reasons for living, the reduced parasuicidal behavior intensity and frequency, together with fewer psychiatric hospitalizations (lower cost and greater ability to sustain patients in the least restrictive environment) is impressive.

***Research showed that DBT did nothing to eliminate depression or hopelessness, suicide ideation or reasons for living? I thought that was what it was DESIGNED to do? It did, however, decrease hospital stays..

Well, from my personal point of view, it made my depression and SI/SIB WORSE! And I've NEVER been hospitalized for any "mental illness" Ever!

Patients drop out of DBT/CBT because...

DBT is a modification of standard cognitive behavioral treatment. As briefly stated above, Marsha Linehan and her team of therapists used standard CBT techniques, such as skills training, homework assignments, symptom rating scales, and behavioral analysis in addressing clients’ problems. While these worked for some people, others were put off by the constant focus on change. Clients felt the degree of their suffering was being underestimated, and that their therapists were overestimating how helpful they were being to their clients. As a result, clients dropped out of treatment, became very frustrated, shut down or all three.

**THIS IS A FACT! And this is because it is invalidating and retraumatizing.
I attended DBT classes and the instructor of the class actually told me the drop out rate is high.
And this is because why? Yes! Retraumatizing, makes symptoms worse by using BUCKETS!

reference: 1997-2008 Behavioral Tech, LLC; © 1997-2008 Cindy Sanderson

DBT does not resolve traumatic memories!

DBT does not specifically treat or resolve the disturbing memories from traumatic exposure. Newer comparison research suggests DBT may not produce as comprehensive reduction in symptom domains as a structured form of transference based psychotherapy. (Clarkin, Levy, Lenzenweger, & Kernberg ~ 2007)

CBT and DBT - For the N*ggers and the F*ggots of Mental Health Consumers

Few words piss me off more than 'n*gger' and 'f*ggot'. They piss me off because we all know damn good and well that no one gets called those names because of some minor character flaw, some slight they may have inflicted upon someone, or some small thing that can be easily remedied. I am 43 years old and was born right here in America. I was raised in many various parts of this country and also among fellow Americans abroad. I'm not a dimwit and I know very well that anyone who tells me different on this subject is lying, whether they realize it or not. I can remember quite clearly how I heard those words spoken to or about someone. They were often hissed instead of spoken. People are not usually hissed at because of character glitches, they are hissed at because of what they are. That's right - because of what they are. People are relegated to n*gger and f*ggot status because of the circumstances of their birth and the history they carry in their bodies and souls. They are hissed at and called n*gger and f*ggot for things that are beyond their control. Imagine for a minute how it might feel to be attacked and despised just for being who you are. Would it feel good? I'm guessing not. Actually, I'm not guessing. I know from experience.

How then might it feel to be singled out as a n*gger or a f*ggot and be sent off to some class where you are supposed to learn how to pretend that you are something else? Do you think you would still know what you really are? What if you were berated in this class whenever you told the truth about yourself? How would you feel then? How would you feel if the pain and the anger of unconscionable injustice sometimes caught up with you and you were then told to 'store away' the truth that is YOU? You might be surprised how many people buy into this bullshit in their desire to 'pass' as something other than what they are. I bought some of that shit myself, before I even knew what I was doing. It nearly caused my death. Yes, that's right - I am both a n*igger and a f*ggot in my society. Because of what I am and my refusal to lie about it.

I am a survivor of severe childhood abuse inflicted upon me by my own caretakers. My own people tortured and betrayed me when I was tiny and helpless. That left marks which don't seem to be fading away. I carry a lot of pain with me. I carry the fear that was woven into the fabric of my being by those who were supposed to love and care for me. I struggled to survive by pretending that I was someone else. I came of age and was ejected into a society that acted just like my family. They only liked me when I was a white heterosexual. Which meant I could never be me. No one can live a healthy life with that level of pretense. Imagine how you would feel if you could not leave your home or interact with others unless you were up to pretending that you were some person very different from who you really are. Trust me, it's exhausting. Further imagine that you then found a class of 'specialists' who claimed to help people with this kind of exhaustion. Imagine that they listened to some of your distress and then... then they tried to help you fix your problem by teaching you to be someone else so you wouldn't have the pain of being a n*gger and a f*ggot anymore. Does that make you want to overdose? It did me, too. Thankfully, I lived.

This is CBT and DBT. Trauma survivors are instructed to store their pain instead of express it. Buckets seem to be the favored storage container. Trauma survivors are told that they are acceptable while being surreptitiously taught that they are not really acceptable the way they are, that they must be someone else because no one wants to hear their pain. They are supposed to use dangerous drugs, think positively, 'change the channel', block their thoughts, focus on the present moment (except for the bad thoughts contained therein - yes, they're supposed to dissociate) - in short, they are supposed to lie. Well, some of us are so sick of lying that we have simply stopped giving a shit what others think. We are Survivors Against Buckets.

That's right - I'm a nigger and a faggot and I don't give one cold fuck who likes it. If you don't like it, then you are welcome to grab a bucket in which to contain your objections. Just don't pass it this way unless you want to wear it on your head after I pee in it.

All who vote for this to be the official theme song of Survivors Against Buckets, say aye.

*** NOW UNDER CONSTRUCTION ***