ACME NW Psychotherapy & Consultation
In person and virtual therapy services for adults, adolescents and children
Wouldn't it be great to have a team of completely loyal, trustworthy compadres right at hand to help you keep your life stress free and tidy?
Not likely huh?
Then again all you really need to do is eat right, sleep well, exercise almost excessively every day, be kind to old people, animals, get a massage, take a deep breath and ignore all that nonsense that makes you feel like a few centuries in cryogenic suspension, regardless of the risk, might not be as bad an idea as it sounds.
But of course, you feel guilty, inadequate and anxious just thinking that. By the way, that hardware we're all using was last updated a hundred thousand years ago when people were old at 30 and spent most of their time trying to find stuff to eat without becoming something else's next meal. We're kind of hard wired to worry, avoid, react too intensely and relegate reason to the hinterlands when we need it most. Hard to know what to do when the sign on the boss's door reads: "Out to lunch, come back later."
The pessimistic view is that we're a doomed species, but seriously we've worked miracles with our antiquated equipment and science tells us we're nowhere near peak utilization.
Dumb. I know, but as the well loved and still dead British blues rocker Robert Palmer said, some things are "simply irresistible." I'll pass on all 200 additional hand puns since a picture is worth a thousand words, unless it's a Rothko.
So, what is ACME NW Psychotherapy and Consultation? Glad I asked.
Actually, it's my practice and I am Steven Feldman, MA, LMHC. I would have tabbed a drum roll, but yeah. I recently decided to change my venue, expand my work with clients, do
more supervision and professional training and maybe finish the book
I've been threatening to write for 15 years. I was in jail for two decades, working, not serving time, which is where I met my wife, also working not serving time and gained more insight into the human condition than I could have imagined was possible. Enough said.
If you've gotten this far, you're either a martyr from some obscure religious order or the bribe was excessive. Generally speaking, those who've not been in therapy before have a few common questions--"Does therapy work? How does it work? What's the difference between "Problems" and Mental Illness? And Does having problems mean there's something wrong with your brain or your childhood or your genes?" The answers are: Yes. It's complicated. It's a distinction without a difference, and Sometimes. (More below).
Therapy or Psychotherapy has a long and convoluted history but seems to have finally hit its stride. Which after 125 years is overdue. Once the exclusive province of the wealthy, and intellectual elite, it was a five-days-a-week affair, cash up front, no insurance and way out of reach for the average Joe and Joanne. At least you got to lie down while your Analyst occasionally "hmm-ed" (hopefully not snoring).
Those memes feel quaint today but we owe those cats more than most therapists care to acknowledge. It's a mixed legacy, the 50-minute hour, What about Bob, the doctrine that the past strongly influences the present and most importantly, (but very often not for the reasons they assumed,) talking with a skilled professional can help you get past self-imposed limitations to become a better version of yourself.
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"The nexus of successful therapy is the relationship between therapist and client. I've worked with just about every variation of person you're likely to find and it never occurred to me that they weren't the expert when it comes to the particulars of their personhood and life experience. If you ask nicely, are genuinely interested and know your own limits you can borrow cultural competency from the real expert sitting across from you."
What I do first and foremost is listen deeply, help clients identify obstacles, and work with them to find solutions. Sometimes that means a gentle nudge; sometimes, it’s a deep dive. I'm confident I’ve seen a lot, done a lot and learned how best to help my clients get to the finish line on their own terms. I cringe when I'm asked "who do you work with because that question transposes people into problems, conditions and diagnoses. Those concepts have their place but it's people who have problems, not the other way around.
Administrivia:
I am partnered with the truly wonderful folks at Mindful Therapy Group.
To schedule an appointment or for billing issues click the link below.
https://www.mindfultherapygroup.com/get-started/?preferredProvider=Steven%20FELDMAN&preferredProviderCode=
Fees:
Individual, Couple and Family: $145 per 55 minute session
Professional Consultation: $250 per hour
Training and Workshops: Pricing by event
Insurance: Primera, Medicare, Kaiser, Regence
My work process... In the mid-80s, I got a call from a 93-year-old man who described himself as "a great-grandfather knocking on the Pearly Gate." He wanted off his pain meds, preferring to be mentally sharp instead of "a corpse too stupid to know it was dead." After two house calls and several pain control inductions, he passed away opioid-free. A week after the funeral, his son and granddaughter called—he'd made them promise to quit smoking, so they booked back-to-back appointments. Along for the ride was 8 y.o. great-granddaughter; precocious, intrusive, loud and very jiggly. A few months later, mom returned cigarette free but, irritable, short-tempered, and struggling to focus. I’d planted a seed about the apple not falling far from the tree as her daughter colonized the lobby flitting from office to office and holding court. It was hard work separating mom’s concerns about herself from those about her daughter. Understandable given her behavior screamed untreated ADHD and Tourette's, but their pediatrician "didn't believe in that nonsense." I respectfully disagreed and included the names and annotations about pediatricians and child psychiatrists I worked with in my paperwork and refocused mom on mom. No surprise she had untreated ADHD, anxiety and mild depression exacerbated by an abusive narcissistic boss, and the burden of shouldering the unresolved grief and inappropriate dependency of her recalcitrant father, 9 years after her mother's death. The cherry on top was her marriage to a sweet but clueless genius—great at software, not so much at everyday life. After two individual sessions I recommended family therapy, including grandad. After 2 months he announced plans for a 6-month tour of the US in his pristine mothballed RV with two widowers he'd befriended at the senior center he'd refused to attend for the previous 5 years. Then Mom quit her job, opened what became a very successful business with a close friend, insisted her husband walk with her every morning and the whole family agreed she was much less frazzled and disorganized after starting ADHD meds. She also came to the conclusion she was the single parent of 3 children ages 8, 5 and 46. I met with dad individually twice, and let's just say descriptions of his ineptitude were greatly exaggerated. Turns out, he'd been coddled since conception as everyone believed he was too oblivious to be trusted with basic responsibilities or more likely just too slow and distracted it was easier not to give him any. A few family sessions later, with his parents and siblings included and he was routinely doing basic things like driving the kids to appointments, doing laundry and spontaneously helping with routine chores. He even took a "Cooking for Dummies" class and got so into baking he brought cookies, cakes and pies to work every Friday. They tried to make him a senior manager-he wisely declined. All good? Seemingly out of nowhere, daughter got sullen, her tics dramatically worsened, and she refused school 3-4 days a week. She stonewalled our session but asked to see me alone. I thought I knew what was up, asked her to wait until our next session before scheduling and called her parents to strongly advise they find a way to get her to talk to them. Next session Dad came in beaming, announced they’d had a protracted, tearful and very productive heart to heart. Long story short: she got a new female pediatrician, a psychiatrist, and was taking meds. Her tics calmed down dramatically, she was able to sit through classes and wasn't being teased much anymore. I'd already spoken to both new physicians and her parents we agreed I'd write a 504-plan, coordinate with her school for long overdue accommodations, and as quickly as possible cede admin authority to her parents. They did a terrific job. Flash forward 21 years. Daughter is now a doctor, six months pregnant, and married to an MD. Everything seemed great, but she was anxious, had a couple of severe panic attacks at work, frequent nightmares, and increasingly thought she was a bad doctor (despite stellar evaluations) and worried she'd be a terrible mother because of her "defective genes," (which she knew was totally irrational but couldn't get out of her head). She was also afraid she'd get post-partum depression, but her mood was good and when she wasn't worried she was active, slept well and took good care of herself. I insisted she bring her husband in next session and right out of the box I asked him what he knew about ADHD and Tourette's. She gasped and glowed scarlet. Turns out, he knew a lot because he figured she had both conditions, was embarrassed, would tell him when she was ready to but, in the meantime, did his homework. When I asked her why she hadn't realized her husband was so, on the case, she shrugged looked at him sheepishly, and he pointed out “Well we all know her dad right?” We cracked up. Her symptoms dissipated within a few weeks. We worked on their relationship, adjusting to life as new parents and busy doctors. They didn’t name their daughter after me, but they did call her pacifier "Steve."
I’m the guy who fixes your broken toaster with a butter knife, and it’s still running 10 years later. That pretty much sums up my career. My path has been driven by a near-obsessive curiosity to figure things out—especially when something’s broken, worn out, or just plain stuck, and I don’t yet know how to fix it. I’ve spent decades immersing myself in new problems and picking up the skills to address them as I go. I just can’t help myself. 30 years ago, I was doing a self-hypnosis staff training at a local hospital. Afterward, an oncology nurse asked if hypnosis could help patients with chemo-induced nausea. I had no clue, so I did what any reasonable person in the pre-internet age would do: I spent countless hours at the UW graduate library. Turns out, there was a lot to learn—not just about applying hypnosis but about cancer, the wider effects of chemo and radiation, how cancer disrupted people's lives, families and even their identity. I ended up seeing over 200 cancer patients in the following decade, but very few only for nausea. A few years later an oncologist (who had referred patients to me) called—only this time, about herself. Pregnant and suffering from relentless morning sickness she asked if I could help. I told her about a migraine patient who'd used the techniques I taught her for morning sickness when she got pregnant and agreed to investigate. A week later, three weeks into her second trimester she called, desperate. Meantime I’d been assiduously digging through old obstetrics texts and calling colleagues. One of them sent me a 1930s era book chapter on applied hypnotic techniques for pregnancy and childbirth. It looked like Harry Potter’s potions text with annotations scrawled in the margins, but several techniques were right on the money. Long story short, it worked. And before I knew it, I found myself attending the first of around 45 births. In fact, three of those babies came to see me when they became pregnant and one of them trained with me after she became a DNP at a prestigious pain clinic. This is how my career unfolded. I get pulled into something new, immerse myself in research and training emerging with enough knowledge to help solve the problem and a persistent passion to improve my skills. When I inherited six families with anorexic daughters from a colleague, I dove into the world of eating disorders, only to be divagated by abuse disclosures and complex trauma. I literally spent four times what I earned working with trauma survivors on training to treat them for several years and I thought I knew a lot before jumping in. NOT. After a few decades maybe I have a foothold, but I’m still actively pursuing skill refinement within the context of scientific advancement. Unsurprisingly I’ve also learned a thing or two about a wide and ever-expanding range of concerns and how to help my clients deal with them; depression, anxiety, chronic pain, neurodiversity issues, behavioral and academic problems, relationship and family challenges, and even performance enhancement for athletes, lawyers, doctors and law enforcement personnel preparing for exams, interviews and dissertation defenses. I’ve trained in Cognitive Behavioral Therapies, Systems Therapies, Narrative therapy, EMDR, hypnotherapy, etc. I’ve run a chronic pain program, a smoking cessation clinic, appeared as an expert witness, consulted for businesses, worked in a jail and advocated for children in public schools. I’ve also taught therapy techniques to thousands of colleagues here and abroad, led supervision groups and consulted on complex cases. Funny thing is none of what I’ve done was in the original plan. If you’d asked me on the day I loaded up my ‘77 Chevy Impala and drove from Minnesota to Seattle in one those 100 year snow storms, what I’d be doing in 5, 10 or 40 years it wouldn’t have been this. But that’s the beauty of curiosity—it takes you down roads you never expected.