My first therapy session…
Interesting.
Confirmed three hundred times the directions. 3.7 miles. I didn’t get lost but I didn’t have a pen…or a check or money order.
See, I forgot to ask these questions because I’ve never done this before. Silly me. Sent me straight into a mental mind fuck.
They won’t see you there without money. So I was told to go to the café next door to the ATM.
Then with shaking hands I had to fill out paperwork…with someone watching. At least I was using her pen so she couldn’t write anything down. Heh.
I got the idea that they wanted a persons background first. Nah. She laid right into it…in a very nice lady way.
I actually had to stop her and say “Does harsh language offend you?”
She just kind of looked at me.
We all know here, that if I am to describe my life with Vance, I’m going to have to say, one of his favorite lines “You fucking bitch, you think you are so fucking great and you are such fucking garbage. You are so fucking ugly.”
And no…I didn’t say that to her.
I thought I was holding back with what he use to say to me but the look on her face when I said the slightest of things to her was sheer horror. This. Is. Not. What. I. Want. To. See.
I saw my face in her and I was looking at the clock to put her out of her pain.
How do I know this, you might ask? She took my money…walked me to the door and couldn’t look me in the eye when she said “I’ll see you next week.”
I’m not giving up. I’m going the therapist my dr. recommended. I’ll find the $125 just to see if she sees.
The sad thing is…she had no idea what to do with me and I could see it. I think I could have taught this woman something but I don’t have the time anymore.
Haha…me teaching a therapist something…not so funny…I’m looking for help?
At least she made me pissed off enough to make a few phones calls (yes at 1am, there are 800 numbers) to find a free ten week program. Fowl language is accepted because that is the only way it can be listened to and resolved.
I told one of the women what the therapist’s reactions were to my comments and she, in a very calm way said “That probably wasn’t good.”
A two week panic attack…that was a slap in the face…it was also a leaning experience.
I don’t need help…I need learning experience.
I thought that I could help someone learn their trade. No. I need someone who’s been there.
And hopefully they have a sense of humor.
Confirmed three hundred times the directions. 3.7 miles. I didn’t get lost but I didn’t have a pen…or a check or money order.
See, I forgot to ask these questions because I’ve never done this before. Silly me. Sent me straight into a mental mind fuck.
They won’t see you there without money. So I was told to go to the café next door to the ATM.
Then with shaking hands I had to fill out paperwork…with someone watching. At least I was using her pen so she couldn’t write anything down. Heh.
I got the idea that they wanted a persons background first. Nah. She laid right into it…in a very nice lady way.
I actually had to stop her and say “Does harsh language offend you?”
She just kind of looked at me.
We all know here, that if I am to describe my life with Vance, I’m going to have to say, one of his favorite lines “You fucking bitch, you think you are so fucking great and you are such fucking garbage. You are so fucking ugly.”
And no…I didn’t say that to her.
I thought I was holding back with what he use to say to me but the look on her face when I said the slightest of things to her was sheer horror. This. Is. Not. What. I. Want. To. See.
I saw my face in her and I was looking at the clock to put her out of her pain.
How do I know this, you might ask? She took my money…walked me to the door and couldn’t look me in the eye when she said “I’ll see you next week.”
I’m not giving up. I’m going the therapist my dr. recommended. I’ll find the $125 just to see if she sees.
The sad thing is…she had no idea what to do with me and I could see it. I think I could have taught this woman something but I don’t have the time anymore.
Haha…me teaching a therapist something…not so funny…I’m looking for help?
At least she made me pissed off enough to make a few phones calls (yes at 1am, there are 800 numbers) to find a free ten week program. Fowl language is accepted because that is the only way it can be listened to and resolved.
I told one of the women what the therapist’s reactions were to my comments and she, in a very calm way said “That probably wasn’t good.”
A two week panic attack…that was a slap in the face…it was also a leaning experience.
I don’t need help…I need learning experience.
I thought that I could help someone learn their trade. No. I need someone who’s been there.
And hopefully they have a sense of humor.
posted by iamfallingfromgrace at 2:00 AM
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