Dear Reader: I absolutely cannot get this cybertherapy issue out of my head, for it is an Orwellian misuse of language, taking therapy, a beautiful event, and turning it into a misnomer, an orcish distillation of a few key terms and distorting their meaning into something that sounds resonant to Gen Z, but that is a cruel trap, for it lures them in with sounds to an echo chamber devoid of meaning.
This time the person responding was an LPC., a licensed professional counselor.
May I ask your name, age and location to start? Also if you don't mind sharing a bit about what brings you here today?
You can take your time in responding too. You can write as much as you would like and there is no need to feel rushed. I will respond back.
We also have live video sessions available. It can help give that interaction similar to traditional therapy.
How does this sound so far?
I cannot believe that Ph.D's, Psy.D, or even MSW's would be involved in this. Talkspace cannot keep either safe. The client can be typing in all kinds of mistruths and the therapist has to take this on trust.
Finally, the essence of being human is to make eye contact. How can you be heard, be held, be seen be encountered by another without eye contact.
That was as far as our chat went. I just can't bring myself to even make up problems. I'm just not into texting anyone. It is important to me that when I have a therapy session, I have the individuals whole attention. Congruence. Unconditioned positive regard. Authenticity. I keep a diary. I have a blog. Heck, I have this whole website to serve as my echo chamber, here whenever I want to verify my existence, expostulate and expel random thoughts, taking my time to shape a formless void into a verbal creation. What blogs, diaries, and websites don't offer is consensual validation, a Horton who hears me hoots, who hears these hoots meaning "I am here. Do you hear?" A Horton who responds, "Yes." Reader--I heard a "Yes.There was a yes.' When is a room not a room? When it is in cyberspace, a space bereft of boundaries, a space bereft of psychological holding. In cyberspace, who will hear you scream. Who will hear you at all?
There is no space, there is no room, there is no womb, there is not psychic incubation, there is no growth due to the interaction. It is more like a self-analysis, and one can do that for free. Some do it by free associating into a tape recorder for 45 minutes, then listening to it for another 45. Some do it by blogging, by diaries, by updating a web site. No charge for that.
To make a buck, to mangle the meaning.
See what a misuse of language? What a world, what a world, as the wicked witch warbled as she was "liquified."
What would Carl Rogers do? WWCRD? He was just so nice, he'd probably find a way to bring it into congruence. I, as lesser mortal, fail.