School. Friends. The question of what you’re supposed to do with the whole rest of your life, asked by people who expect an answer this year.
There’s an old word for the way all of that can land on you at once, and the word is angst.
It’s a useful word because it holds anxiety and depression at the same time. It doesn’t make you choose which one you’ve got.
Yours doesn’t have to be the severe version to be worth an appointment. You don’t have to have everything figured out, either.
Feeling overwhelmed is enough of a reason to start.
Your body runs an alarm system, and it was built to do one thing well: fire fast, then shut itself off.
Left alone, the shutting-off part takes five to ten minutes, which is worthless to you when the alarm goes off in the middle of fourth period.
Slow breathing gets you there faster, and once you’ve practiced it a while, it takes about two breaths.
That’s the sort of thing I’d rather teach you: how your own hardware works, instead of a worksheet about your feelings.
Those skills come out of CBT, which is grounded in science and, honestly, a little heartless about it.
My other training is in existential therapy, and that’s the half that takes your bigger questions seriously, the ones nobody at school has time for.
What’s the point of all this? Who are you supposed to become? And is the plan everybody has for you one you’d have chosen for yourself?
Most adults hear those questions as symptoms to be managed. I hear them as real questions, and I’ll argue the answers with you until you land on one you actually believe.
Your teenager is the client here, which means I keep what happens in their sessions private.
The one exception is danger, and I tell them that in the first session so nobody gets surprised later.
No updates, no progress reports, no family sessions. I say that out loud before anybody books anything, and I turn down the referrals that need it run a different way.
Plenty of parents want it the other way around, and if that’s you, say so in your first email so we can settle it before we start.
We’ll meet weekly while you’re building the skills, then every other week, then monthly if the monthly is useful. Some people keep the monthly for a long time.
The sign we’re getting close to done is a boring one: you have less to bring me, and more of what you bring is something you already tried on your own.
Whichever of you is reading this, write to me at sgutkn@gmail.com to set up a first appointment, or just to ask the questions you’d want answered first. That conversation is free.
You've been using it on people who decided what you meant before you finished. Use it on somebody whose whole job is hearing the end of your sentence.
Send me an email. Tell me what's going on, in whatever words you've got. Ask how I can help you.
If you'd rather talk first, say so. The consultation is free, by video or phone.