I hate the waiting room and i hate the copay

the process of getting to my session is more stress than i feel is worth it. the drive there puts a horrible feeling in my stomach....walking into the office i pray noone is around so i dont get spotted....the waiting room is the worst....choosing which seat to sit in....having to acknowlege the secretaries....having to give that d*mn $15 dollars...."do u want a receipt sarah?"....uh uh....."sure" ::runs back to seat and buries head in magazine...."here ya go" ::grabs reciept with head down.. "thanks" ::runs back to seat...:: now we play the waiting game...flippin through the magazine, reading nothing because im so worried about when my T opens that door....the waiting game is the worst....i used to get there 10 minutes early...but the wait made me too anxious...so id drive there 10 minutes early and wait in my car for 5....and wait in the waiting room for 5....T opens the door...stands in the doorway "hi sarah, com'on back"....stands in the doorway while i walk by ' look at her? dont look at her? smile? dont smile? head up? head down? walk fast? walk slow?' iinto the office i go...set my purse on the floor..cringe and wait for her to get ready....i think its the worst 20 minutes of my life all together....the stress makes it not even worth going.....idk what to do..i like talkin to her...i hate the presession nerves though

I am lucky in that my T's waiting room is usually empty when I get there. I have rarely met or even seen the other clients. My T and her husband who is also a T share a waiting room, I rarely even see his clients. The waiting room is so bland and nonstimulating that I imagine I could get into a depressive episode just sitting there too long

I still get nervous as hell waiting. I usually arrive about 15 minutes early, then wait in my car until about 5 minutes before. My T usually says I am free to go in while she grabs some tea or does some paperwork. I HATE sitting on the couch in her office while I wait for her. The time goes sooo slowly because I am nervous about stuff like crying in front of the T. Or revealing stuff I don't want to talk about. Once the session starts I am okay though.

Hang in there.

I can relate to some of what you described.

My nerves are always so shot when I arrive that I immediately have to go to the bathroom - even if I just went before driving there 15 minutes prior. I have started to wait in my car instead of in the waiting room, but it certainly is an awkward feeling to have to address the receptionist and wait for his door to open. It is incredibly stressful, the anticipation.

You are not alone.

Oh, and about the copay....After group yesterday, when I could barely say anything during the session because I was so triggered with panic from unrelated events....I couldn't even look him in the eye as I was paying the copay. I basically cut in front of someone to lay down the $40, looked up at him briefly so that we made quick eye contact so he knew it was my money...and I turned and bolted out the door so fast.

Normally, I'm very social with the members of group, but this week was just awful for me.

You are not alone with this one!! I still feel nervous after nearly 4 years!! I think all therapists should have a decent gap between clients , so you never run into anybody, and also have an exit door, so you dont have to go back through the waiting room on the way out.I always go in at the last possible minute so I usually avoid the waiting room altogether!!!

I hate the waiting room too. I have been seeing T for several years and I have read every last magazine in there! So now I bring my own book which feels much better
I don't sign in or deal with anyone but T there regarding my payment.
If you write a check you could skip the receipt part of the routine and that might feel better to you.

The entering... It still bugs me. T opens the door, calls my name, I grab my stuff and head her way. She's smiling, holding the door. I smile but eye contact is quick. As I near the door she opens it all the way and stands with her back to the wall for me to pass through.
I used to tell her to go first because this made me so uncomfortable.
Now I go first, saying thank you as I pass her and go through the door for the short walk to her room. The entire time I feel very self-concious and anxious. When we get to the room and she closes that door, I feel fine.

We talked about how uncomfortable it feels, that time from my seat in the waiting room to my seat in the room. I love how she's interested, fascinated by everything

I still sometimes get to the room and laugh and say, I don't think that will ever get to be any less awkward and uncomfortable. What would make it better, she asks. I don't know yet. I keep trying to name what it is that creates the discomfort and awkwardness but I guess I'm not ready to see it yet.

I guess I'm luck as T works from a converted bedroom in her home. I did use to see a therapist connected to the day patient treatment centre I attended 6yrs ago, I remember sitting in the chair outside and each time another therapist walked past for some reason the "fantasys" would kick off in my head, ie, I bet they think I am really ill and I bet they really feel sorry for me and I bet I am unique and everyone knows at this centre that I am the sickest of them all and I bet, and I bet and its me, me, me LOL! As I say now I calmly walk into T's home and the mad thinking has stopped LOL!! Oh cripes, reading this over, perhaps I was the sickest LMAO!!!

Sarah....
I soooooooo can relate to this:

Quote:

look at her? dont look at her? smile? dont smile? head up? head down? walk fast? walk slow?' iinto the office i go...set my purse on the floor..cringe and wait for her to get ready....

It's like every move is being watched and evaluated.....I know T is assessing your appearance/affect when she first sees me.

I guess Echoes is probably correct - it is a good thing to bring up in therapy. But that would feel just as awkward.

That waiting room does sound a little anxiety-provoking.

I live in a wee little country town, so there was never anyone waiting when I got to T's office. Sometimes he would still be with another client, though. He had no receptionist. He also would personally take the co-pay. It was kind of this quiet moment where I said thank you with a $20. In the beginning I did feel a lot of anxiety in the waiting room, but that eased as therapy went on. I kind of liked being there after a while, knowing that he decorated the place and often hearing his laugh from the other room. Kind of comforting in its own way. I don't think I would have liked having a lot of people around either.

I can also relate to this. Mixed_up, I thought I was the only one who had to go to the bathroom before each session! For 6 years! I, too, am only 15 minutes away but I get so, so nervous--until the session starts. Then I'm okay. I still feel a little embarrassed knowing that she knows I'm always in the bathrom first. We talked about it once, and she understands that I'm nervous before a session.

Therapy is in her house, and her waiting room is very pleasant. I wish I could just lie on her couch forever. It's more comfortable than her therapy room. There's never been anyone else waiting, though sometimes I see someone leave, or come after me. I hate that! Her books and some photos are there, so it's all her and her family's stuff. I feel like it's private, though I have looked around. She told me that she doesn't keep anything private in that room, so it's okay to look.

I write my check and give it to her directly, or leave it on her desk in the other room. I'll never get used to that part because it means the session is over. I've decided that therapy is "strange," and there's no way around that fact.

I write my check before I go to see T, and the VERY first thing I do, whether we have said hello yet or not, is to hand it over. "here - let me give you this before I forget it."

and then, having handed it over, I immediately put it out of my mind.

since I have to work on a lot of buried anger and large issues of mistrust, I half imagine that if I waited to the end, I could be more like, what?~ me pay you for what I just went through?!?!? lol

This thread made me think of something I wrote awhile ago. I guess the waiting room nerves is a universal issue.




Through the wooden blinds that cover the window a small morsel of light breaks through. It glares at me through the slats and demands my attention, demands that I squint, demands acknowledgement. Instead I look away. I shift in my chair. I pick at my fingernails. Go away light.

I'm fond of the blinds that shut out the sun. That annoying, cheery sun. Within these four protected walls my thoughts can race-race-race. Race until I drop. Race until I scream. Race until I jump out of my skin. Race until it's couch time.

The blinds keep out the prying eyes of the normal as we sit and wait for our turns on the couch.

I glance over at the point of light and see it has shifted. A smirky "told-you-so" attitude blinks out a Morse code message.

You can't shut me out. I will not be blocked. I will not go away. I am the light and I will find you.

Perhaps this is what it's like when the spotlight of death shines on you. Perhaps it's a game of seduction and intrigue as you're led to the other side. A peaceful place where life is death and death is life and both are filled with light. And the light is warm. And the light penetrates your soul. Perhaps death is love. Perhaps...

The door opens and I'm startled. I tense up and wait for my heart to slow. I slide my eyes to my hands and swing my keys around my finger. Jingle-jingle-jingle. Legs walk to the reception window. A pen scribbles the time of arrival. Legs turn and walk to a chair tucked away in the corner. Far away from the rest of us who wait in different corners for our turn on the couch.

We'll come to know each other by our shoes. Miss High-Heels, Mr. Nike, Sexy Sandals. We won't make eye contact but we'll glance at each other when we know it's safe. We do this to see what a crazy person looks like. To see if there's a small chance we might look like them.

A quick flash catches my eye and I'm drawn back to the light. It sparkles through the glass like a highly-polished diamond. The white patterns it creates are ever-changing like a colorless kaleidoscope. I'm relieved to stare at something other than shoes.

Tapping feet, drumming fingers, eyes closed tight in thought. Flap-flap the magazine pages turn but the blank eyes do not read. I take my pen out and capture the moment on a crumpled scrap of paper. I will write about this later.

The door that leads to the couch opens. It's Nike's turn. I make a list of all the things I need to talk about. All the ups and downs, the highs and lows, the twists and turns. When it's my turn on the couch I will not sit on it. Instead I'll go to the corner and sit on the floor. I'll hug my knees close to my chest and rock back and forth. Share things I've never told another soul. Sob as I reveal my desire for the light. Sob as I reveal my fear of it.

My name is called. The others in the waiting room think, it's Casual Slip-Ons turn. I nervously walk the length of the hallway into the room where I sit on the edge of the couch. I'm vigilant and perched, ready to fly. Ready to cry. Ready to...

"So, how's it going? How are you doing?"

"Fine, thank you." I smile. "Everything is just fine."

My turn on the couch is here.

SJN © 2007

>>>>>>> Instead I'll go to the corner and sit on the floor. I'll hug my knees close to my chest and rock back and forth. Share things I've never told another soul. Sob as I reveal my desire for the light. Sob as I reveal my fear of it.


now I know I don't "do therapy" right. No one will ever hear that from me.
thank you for posting this.

My T doesn't have a receptionist, and I pay him directly. After a really hard session a few months ago, my hands were shaking and I said "I don't know if I can write the check" and T said "oh, you can". I totally burst out laughing. It's like an ongoing joke we have now "I just have to get treehouse to the point where she can write that check by the end of the session". LOL It probably sounds awful, but it makes kind of a weird moment in therapy more fun. I'm actually chuckling writing about it, but I'm weird that way.

Early in therapy, I did feel REALLY WEIRD when I had to walk past him into his office. I practically slinked along the wall, eyes down, just scurrying by as quickly as I could. I've finally reached the point where I don't even think about it.

Lately, he'll tell me "go on in" and he'll go off to the bathroom or something. It's weird to be in his office alone. I'm scared of seeing something on his desk that I shouldn't (like another client's file) so I sit and stare at the walls. Sometimes I think maybe T is *too* comfortable with me!

Thank you for all ur nice responses, it makes me happier to know alot of people feel this way and that its not my own anxiety going out of control and my worrying being overdramatic. all the thoughts though are hindering me from making an appointment at this point. Then i worry what we wil talk about...and ugh, i tend to worry too much. But im getting stressed out even thinking about the stress of the waiting room.. i feel like the secretaries are judging me! i know they arent....but maybe thats me judging myself for being in the waiting room of a therapist....im still not comfortable with it. Maybe thats where all the anxiety stems from....my insecurities of seeing a Therapist. Not sure, but all ur answers really helped me see that its not only meee <3 thanks you mucho