i saw this post earlier about therapists and it reminded me of my old therapist paul, who in my opinion is one of the greatest men alive and who did not put up with my bullshit for even one second
anyway i go in to see paul one week in the summer of 2016, and i’m doing my usual bullshit which consists of me talking shit about myself, and paul is staring at me, and then he cuts me off and says that he’s got a new tool for helping people recognize when they’re using negative language, and gets up and goes over to his desk
and i’m like alright hit me with that sweet sweet self-help article my man, because i’m a linguistic learner and whenever paul’s like here i have a tool for you to use it’s pretty much always an article or a book or something
paul opens a drawer, takes something out, and turns back around. i stare.
i say, paul.
is that a nerf gun.
yeah, says paul.
i say, are you gonna shoot me with a nerf gun in this professional setting.
he happily informs me that that’s really up to me, isn’t it. and sits back down. and gestures, like, go ahead, what were you saying?
and i squint suspiciously and start back up about how i’m having too much anxiety to leave the house to run errands, like it was a miracle to even get here, like i’ve forgone getting groceries for the past week and that’s so stupid, what a stupid issue, i’m an idiot, how could i–
a foam dart hits me in the leg.
i go, hey! because my therapist just shot me in the leg. paul blinks at me placidly and raises an eyebrow. i squint again.
i say, slowly, it’s– not a stupid issue, i’m not stupid, but it’s frustrating me and i don’t want it to be a problem i’m having.
no dart this time. okay. sweet.
so the rest of the hour passes with me intermittently getting nailed with tiny foam darts and then swearing and then fixing my language and, wouldn’t you know it, i start liking myself a little more by the end of the session, which is mildly infuriating because paul can tell and he’s very smug about it
anyway i leave his office and the lady having the next appointment walks in and i hear what’s all over the floor? and paul very seriously says cognitive behavioral therapy tools.
I think the most healing thing my therapist has said to me was that I’m allowed to be angry and bitter about slipping through the cracks my whole life. I was so obviously and desperately in need of help from kindergarten to 12th grade, and only once did anyone respond, when I was 12, and then I went to middle school and fell through the cracks again. I got detentions for talking out daily in elementary and middle school. I broke down crying multiple times in class as a 17 year old in HS, which is, you know, not normal. I never did my homework, failed multiple classes every year and did summer school, all while ranking in the 99th percentile in state testing.
And nobody said “this isn’t right. someone pay attention to this girl.”
instead most of my teacher’s and a lot of my friends’ parents labeled me a problem child and couldn’t wait for me to be gone.
and I’ve spent all this time thinking “well, I’m getting the help I need and deserve NOW! It’s time to move on! Don’t focus on how, if someone had paid attention, I may be attending a college with a full ride scholarship right now, maybe have my dream job already, wouldn’t have spent so long suffering and suicidal.”
But my therapist told me, not only was it okay for me to be angry that literally all of the adults in my life but my mom and friend’s mom failed me, but she was also angry FOR me. And that I was allowed to be angry at everyone who let young Molly Anne slip through crack after crack. And that being angry and accepting that I was failed would help me move on.
And it has.
You’re allowed to be pissed off about the bad things that happened to you as a kid. You’re allowed to ask life “hey, what the fuck?” It’s part of healing.
blackash26 