She was 22 and dirty, poorly dressed, having been dragged into my clinic office by a social aide. She knew her diagnosis.
“I got social anxiety disorder. I am social phobic. I don’t want to leave my apartment.” She was looking me straight in the eye, through her tangled blond hair with a purple streak. I think her clothes had been black, what the kids call “goth,” before they became soiled.
She didn’t do drugs; that was the good news. She did drink; her friends brought her that in exchange for; guess what. Yes, whatever charms she had, she certainly was not ashamed to exchange them for booze.
Read more on Social Phobia — Sometimes There IS A Happy Ending…
Filed under Psychotherapy by on Jan 6th, 2010. 1 Comment. 
She was a woman in her early seventies. She looked tired, almost haggard, although neatly dressed. She had obviously seen a lot of hardship in her life, but she wore it well. She looked like someone you could trust, a “salt of the earth” kind of person.
It is unusual to see a senior come to a psychiatric clinic for the first time. We see women of all ages, it is true; about 70% of the psychiatric patients in most average (not Department of Veterans Affairs) medical clinics are female.
She had been referred by a general physician who could do nothing for her headaches. He had wisely decided that starting her on any kind of potentially addictive painkiller was a very bad idea.
I took a detailed history. It seemed that the headaches came on when her husband yelled at her or threatened her. He did that often enough. He was of some kind of northern European origin. She had married him after the death of her first husband in an accident; her first husband had been her real love-match. But she was a traditional housewife, who wanted to keep house more than anything in the world.
Filed under Psychotherapy by on Dec 30th, 2009. Comment.