By most anyone’s standards I’ve lived a rather shocking life. At least, I’ve had a lot of shocking experiences. It’s all stuff I would never tell my coworkers. That, of course, makes me think of how much of myself I won’t be able to share, or shouldn’t share with Tech Boy. Which leads to how unfair it would be for me to get involved with anyone because I simply have too much
crap baggage. How do I ever get involved with anyone and expect them to be ok with the things that have happened in my life?
I’ve just been taking this day by day. Appreciating each day (ok, so it’s only been like a week or two, but still! That’s longer than I’ve had in so long). I can’t think of the long run. I don’t even know how. Things don’t last that long, or don’t turn out how I want them to. I don’t want to think about the future. I want to enjoy my life now. For once! Apparently I’m not allowed. Lost and confused.
She asked me how things were going with Friend. Fine. I don’t think I’m so emotionally dependent on him. I still talk to him every day, but I don’t NEED to. She thinks he gives off mixed signals. Like on Saturday for his wife’s birthday, instead of spending much time with her, he spent almost the entire evening with me. So what. You know. He has stuff going on in his life too. It’s a tough month for him and maybe he just needed a caring friend nearby. She thinks there might be more there, but he’s dissociated from his feelings so he’d probably never be honest with me. I’m kind of getting sick of Therapist always harping on him. She puts so much emphasis on my grieving the loss of the intimacy we had. I’m just sick of hearing it. Sick. Sick. Sick.
And then she also went on about how I seem so steady, like my foundation is very solid, so she can’t imagine that I was turbulent when I was younger. I have done A LOT of changing and growing over the last decade. A lot. I slowly changed from Acting Out, to almost entirely Acting In. I’ve put in an incredible amount of time analyzing myself and increasing my self-awareness. I have changed a lot over the years, but that doesn’t change who I was.
She flat out does not believe me when I tell her I was a terror in middle school and high school. How does she expect to get an accurate picture of who I am if she doesn’t even listen to what I’m telling her? She thinks I’m too kind, and sweet, and loving to have ever been, this violently angry, destructive person. I terrorized my sister, fought with my brother, had house shaking screaming matches with my parents. Daily. I put my fists through windows and walls. Kicked down almost all the doors in the house, vandalized properly, shoplifted, got arrested, drank, had reckless sex, my parents even tried kicking me out of the house until I actually ran away. I could go on forever. I’m not proud of the girl I was, but it doesn’t change the fact that I was in fact, that girl. That she doesn’t believe me really makes me wonder how she expects to help me.
She wants me to be this person she thinks I am. Except I’m the person I actually am.
I don’t want to go back. At least not to her. Maybe I should find a new therapist.