Therapy Sucks

Therapy sucks, it’s like paying someone to be your Mom and only ask you leading questions about your most personal moments in life. And you know they’re going to nag you about it later, but unlike your Mom, it’s because you’re giving them money…to pester you…

 

Why am I going to therapy again?

 

Oh right.

 

Anxiety and my Dad.   

 

This week my conversation with my therapist went something like this:

 

Me: Why can’t I let go of the fact that the people who are supposed to be my family aren’t?

 

Therapist: What do you mean they aren’t?

 

**I consider asking her if she’s been paying attention the past few months, but realize that she’s just pulling a therapist trick on me**

 

Me: They have nothing to do with me.

 

T: Didn’t we talk about them being toxic and then didn’t you tell them that you needed space?

 

Me: I told my Dad and Step Mom to leave me alone because they expect me to forget about everything that’s happened, brush it under the rug, and join in all the family fun again until our unresolved issues boil over.

 

T: What resolved issues?

 

*Oh, come the fuck on, I know we’ve talked about this before!*

 

Me: That my Dad is a constant asshole to me, that he’s demeaning and cruel and his wife and his family just pretend like it isn’t happening, like it hasn’t happened since I was 13, because they don’t think it will do any good.

 

T: And their being silent makes you feel like they don’t support you?

 

Me: Yep.

 

T: Can you get past how they treat you?

 

Me: Nope.

T: It’s gone on for a long time.

 

Me: It has and it really hurts.

 

T: You know, it’s ok for you to miss your family even though it isn’t healthy for them to be in your life right now.

 

** Cue tears…because if I’m not crying in therapy, I’m not getting my money’s worth.**

 

T: The anxiety, the feeling of abandonment, the heartache, those are all normal for someone who’s gone through what you’ve gone through. You don’t feel like anyone has ever loved you enough to stay around, or be there for you when you’re at your lowest, but you’re sitting here, moving forward. You’re loving you.

 

** Oh my god she just said ‘You’re loving you’ and now all I can think of is masturbation jokes.**

 

T: It’s probably always going to hurt, that they’re having a life together without you.

 

Me: …That’s good to know…

 

T: How do you think you’re going to deal with that?

 

Me: Alcohol?

 

**Used to my sarcasm, she just stares at me.**

 

Me:…I guess I’ll just let it hurt when it hurts and move on.

 

T: You don’t think ragey text messages are the answer?

 

**Who’s using sarcasm to mask her true feelings now Ma’am?**

 

Me: Probably not.

 

T: I think you just graduated from therapy.

 

What I’ve learned in the past few months, is that most of my problems are within my control, which sucks, because I was hoping to shell out money to hear that everyone else was wrong and that I’m delightful.

 

People make me feel bad about myself, and make me question my self worth, but ultimately I get to choose whether or not those people get to say anything to me at all.

It fucking hurts being the one that gets left behind in a family that’s so big we couldn’t all fit under one roof. But being here without them, with two sleeping babies in the next room and a husband who’s folding the laundry and laughing at the TV, I watch the fire burn down to embers and I write, and my heart feels full. When the pain comes I take a sip of tea and I breath and remember all of the times we were together, happy and laughing, and I let the rest wash over me.

 

It may not always be so easy, it probably won’t be, but today it is.

 

Thank God for therapy.

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