I have one word to describe what this sounds like. Fuck. I thought that cognitive behavioral therapy is basically how to escape from ruts, how to live your life better and become a more comfortable, confident person. See I don't need anyone to find out my problems. I'm a very analytical person and even without any kind of formal training have been able to work out the problems of others. I'm well aware of a lot of my problems. So I chose the therapy of how to go about fixing them. She made it sound like I was walking in to a ghetto wearing a white robe and black face. In her own words she said that they're going to break me down. They're going to basically finish off what is left of my mind, and rebuild a better person from the ruins. That was what happened to her. She left her therapy sessions shaking and in tears. Let me tell you I am not very open as it is. I need to be asked something directly, or told something directly, and that is not what a psychologist does. They're trained specifically to NOT do that, at all.
I need to go in there willing to talk, willing to be open, and willing to be broken. I am neither of those things and that's why I put off getting therapy for so long. I knew I wouldn't be able to talk. I was ready to talk four months ago, when I actually applied for therapy.
Also this is something that I would have to go through anyway if I wanted to become a psychiatrist. Apparently they put you through incredible mental duress. The reason that therapists are so calm, collected, and barely react emotionally is because they're conditioned to by intense therapy where you basically solve all your own problems. You come to terms with everything you are and that you've done.
I'm so fucking screwed.
Oh and as a special treat to Elsie, I present to you a reposting of the pictures that Bersercules drew of, and, for, me.
|For the people who aren't fond of the ponies I present CAT IN A BOX.|