I have been to exactly 6 sessions of therapy now. Three with the initial guy and three with the woman who had been pushing the meds.
I try to rationalize not going every time.
I still think most therapists are self absorbed douche-lords (sorry to my friends and family in this profession) and I sometimes can’t help but think I could do a much better job at it which leads to bitter thoughts on profession choice which leads to even more bitter thoughts on how I didn’t really have a choice to choose a profession.
I’m not sure if it is helpful but I did have a sort of mini revelation the other day when meeting with the woman therapist. The man was always talking about himself, but she is a tiny bit more contemplative and encouraging. I’m not the kind to open up easily and I didn’t care for the way she started our session.
“So, shall we talk about some of your issues?”
I could tell she didn’t remember me at all and had no idea what my issues even were. For a brief second I entertained telling her I had cut back on stealing from department stores and had slowed way down on my illegal drug smuggling activities and midget porn. She might not have realized I was being sarcastic though so I held off.
She wasn’t getting much out of me so she started talking meds.
She said she was going to put me on Zoloft and I got a little pissed. The last time I saw her she told me she would be me on a reaction list so that nobody would prescribe the SSRIs anymore because they have an adverse effect on me. I told her in detail what they do to me and even shared what I wrote on this site with her about my Zoloft/Prozac experience. I almost agreed though just to see if she really had put me on a reaction list and to see if she was honestly going to try to push it on me again. That would have been all the ammunition I needed to never return.
I asked her why they hadn’t found a way to put alcohol into a pill form and prescribe that because if I have a couple of drinks when I am feeling anxious I’m good. I just need to force myself to stop at a couple.
She didn’t think it was funny.
Then we just sat in silence for a bit.
I told her she was making me uncomfortable. She wanted to know why. I told her I actually felt threatened and was getting anxious. She apologized but still didn’t know why. I didn’t know why. I kept thinking of bullshit reasons but knew none of them were accurate. If I’m going to endure this torture I want to actually attempt to figure things out. I’m not in it for the entertainment value.
Then I kind of realized what it was.
Usually whenever someone pays undivided attention to me there is malicious intent behind the attention. Certainly more so as a child but even as an adult. There is frequently an agenda whenever anyone is kind or listens or pays too much to me in any way. At least I feel this way because of past experiences. It freaked me out and I told her so. Then she tried filling up the silence like the other guy. It was annoying but at least I didn’t feel like I was about to be attacked or cemented into a wall.
I wish there was a better solution. This is going to be a long, torturous road.