Letter To My New Therapist   5 comments

I am fairly certain that I have a decent therapist this time around.  By decent I mean she not only inspires confidence in me as far as her professionalism and educational background, but she also seems to genuinely respect her clients and care about people in general.  I know that sounds like a low bar, but after the last few experiences that I’ve had, I was starting to question just what would make the average person in the field start down the path.  Everyone seems so quick and ill tempered.  But then, I know there are a lot of things stressing people and causing burnout that probably lead them all to the same pesky predicaments and I shouldn’t really read too much into their personalities.  At least they are trying to help, right?

Anyway, this new lady seems relatively “open” and “accessible” and I need that in someone whom I am supposed to trust.  I play games with people that close themselves off to me.  I know that’s not cool, but I also have a really hard time stopping myself from doing it, so I don’t even bother trying with people in a position of authority because it just gets way too stressful for me.  If you’re a cop, doctor, teacher, shit – even the cashier at the grocery store or chick who cuts my hair- if you make me feel the least bit trivialized I will fuck with you.  It’s a defense I guess.  But it can lead us all down a very dark path and sometimes, people get hurt.

I am not really proud of this feature.  But after years of hiding who I am,  the one thing I have learned from being labeled “mentally ill” is that if I have to be attached to that phrase the least I can give myself is a bit of a break and allow for some room to be comfortable with some of the fucked up stuff that I do.  I am sick.  I can’t even pretend that’s not the case.  Some people can trust me.  Most people would be wise not to.  But you can only say that kind of stuff for so long before people doubt the first statement is true and just start pushing you away at every turn.  And you know what, that’s totally OK.  I’d rather someone I love mistrust me and be safe than someone who can’t trust me giving me too much power over their lives and both of us winding up in a situation where it’s gone too far.

That might sound like I have a heart or conscience, but it’s not about that.  I am just not a fool.  And I don’t want anyone blaming me for making them a monster.  It’s happened before all too often.  Too many girls and even some guys are walking around the planet with mighty big chips on their shoulders saying that “Jen Czahur is the reason I am fucked up.”  I did something to them and now they feel they have a right to wreck havoc all over the globe.

Fuck that.

I don’t blame anyone for my crazy.  It’s my weakness.  It’s my defect.  Maybe someone drove me here, but I choose to pull the trigger each and every time.  I like it.  I like being the one who hurts people and who makes them afraid.  That’s why I do it, because I want to. I don’t do it because of what happened to me.  Maybe that’s what pushed me to the edge, but I jump off of it each time, knowing full well that I am choosing to embrace the darkness.  And so is each and every one of the fools who have used me as their excuse.

And my new therapist, I am sensing, while she is far from a deviant on the scale of someone I would call a peer, is someone who can at least empathize with me and not judge me.  I am being honest.  I am not in therapy because I want to make excuses for my behavior.  I am in therapy because I’d like to unravel it enough to understand it and perhaps modify it.  I just need to feel like whatever progress I am able to make, whatever progress I am not able to make, I am still worth the effort.

My friends adore me.  My girlfriend loves me more than life itself.  My family is like a carbon copy of a picture of a family on a cereal box, they are meaningless and false and there is no lacking in my heart for what they do not offer me.  I have a lot, but what I need is someone who does not feel like they need me, not even as a friend.  I need someone with relative intelligence, who understands my mental health issues and who can hear my truth and, while still being incredibly honest and firm, continue to fucking care about me because she hasn’t lost sight of the fact that I am not a monster.  I am just a girl who chooses to do what a monster does from time to time because I have no sense of why I shouldn’t.  I don’t understand the rules.  I don’t care about the things that even I want to care about.

I need help.  I have goals, but they are lost inside of my careless self defeat.  I need direction and compassion and a little faith in something worth fighting for.

I have this new therapist and I hope she understands that while I am just another client to her, I am the whole spectrum of humanity and the entire concept of insanity wrapped up in a little girl who never stopped wanting to make everything OK for someone else.

And I just need someone to help me make things OK for me this time.


5 responses to “Letter To My New Therapist

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  1. Pingback: Mommy Breaks Up With Her Therapist, a Rant | Parents Living With Teens Who Cut

  2. I wish you all the best working with your new therapist.

    Loved reading your post. Take care of you and continue to speak your truth.

  3. Pingback: The Benefits of an Amazing Therapist | Muse In The Valley ©

  4. My dear friend, I have nominated you for some awards, you can choose all or less, the link is :transcendingbordersblog.wordpress.com/2013/05/24/11-awards-one-post/

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