I'm relatively new to finally self-identifying as a CSA survivor, but I'm no stranger to therapy, having had the same therapist for four years (14-18), as well as two involuntary admissions to state mental hospitals during that time-frame, with the focus then being severe depression and "non-flagging" suicide attempts.
(A side note: The upside to free or state-paid mental help is you can be sure the people involved aren't doing it for the money; the downside is a much more limited set of options and resources)
Though i realize a big part of my lack of progress was due to not dealing with the SA, my other issues included impatience and anxiety. When i started taking therapy seriously, i still saw it being like sweeping broken glass off the floor- "let's hurry up and get this done, so we can all get back to living life". (BTW my T. also just let me talk, with occasional questions or nudges here and there.)
After eight months of talking, I was pissed off- "I show up once a week, talk for an hour, and go home- whoopty-doo..." I started showing up late, missing appointments, therapy became again something i did because i was told to. After the attendance started slipping, my T. actually called me at home, making sure i was safe, asking me what was up. I told him, this just isn't getting anywhere any more, what's the point? I don't feel suicidal, but where's the magic?
He then told me not to feel like we had to get anything "done", that if i was more comfortable dropping down to biweekly and just spent the hour talking about favorite bands, etc., that was something we could try, as long as i could make the commitment to go every time, on time, and to let him know, day or night, if i began feeling unsafe. That was acceptable to me, and that lasted for a little while, until my anxiety started kicking up again, and i felt like changing the frequency or intensity of our sessions wouldn't make a difference either.
I began having the exact same worries about being dependent on therapy forever, and i began shifting responsibility for my unhappiness completely onto therapy, accusing my T., and the clinic, of purposely holding my progress back so that i'd HAVE to go for the rest of my life, declaring that i hadn't felt unsafe in ages, and that i didn't want or need this anymore. I convinced my family i was going to feel worse if i kept having to go, and so i stopped going.
My T. had "left the door open" so to speak, which was good, since about a month after i dropped therapy, i dropped way back down mood-wise, and was either frenzied, or dead to the world. I was forced to admit that it didn't matter if i was "dependent" or not on therapy, i couldn't successfully cope with day-to-day living w/o it.
The state coverage stopped at 18, but by that time, i was at least able to recognize and interrupt my tendency to spiral into immobilizing depression. i obviously didn't face everything, but at least suicidal ideation and depression no longer seemed so seductive and inevitable the way it once did.
I didn't deal with my CSA successfully then, but sticking with my therapy probably kept me alive long enough for me to be here today... just my own experience w/ this, but i hope it's been worth taking the time to read it ...
Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.
-William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act IV, Sc. III