Why must every title be a pun?
Anyway, I said that I would get around to writing the story about the girl who helped push me over the edge at work and made me decide enough was enough, and go to therapy. This would be that story.
As most of you know, I am a desperately lonely man. I don't know if I really want to put it like that, but I guess I kinda am. Over time I've come to accept being single though and stop caring so much about the fact that I'm not in a relationship. I'm even totally comfortable being single now, and don't desire a relationship as much as I once did. All this goes out the window though if one condition is met. I meet someone I like.
I went into work one day and the most wonderful girl I'd met in the past...few months perhaps, was there too. I had a lot of fun that day. We spent a lot of the day working together and because I was so happy I was very productive, and I even bought her dinner. It wasn't much but it was something. I then proceeded to eat on my own, and that's when the reality began to hit me. The reality being that A) she was a pretty girl, and B) she wasn't interested in me. I pushed it out of my head though and I was still able to have a lot of fun with her. I even picked her up at one point for a laugh, and because someone said I couldn't. I then tried to pick someone else up, fell on my butt, and nearly injured both of us. That was a lot more hilarious.
I was very very bipolar for that week. One minute I was really happy because the pretty girl was being nice to me, the next I was upset because the pretty girl wasn't interested in me. I couldn't just push it all away and try and be friends with her. I'm a very obsessive person, and wildly jealous. There was another guy who worked with us, and she spent a lot of time too. Even though this guy was clearly gay, it still upset the hell out of me. I felt used, hurt, and abandoned. Thus that week became the second worst week of my life where I finally began to cry uncontrollably and that is what resulted in me spending 20 minutes crying to myself in a kitchen at work.
Once that happened, I began to accept that I couldn't handle everything on my own, and maybe I did need help. I went to a GP and asked to be referred to a therapist and after waiting four months I finally began my therapy. I chose to have cognitive behavioural therapy, as opposed to counseling, because I felt what I needed was action, and not words, and I have more than enough time to think. I know a lot of my problems, and I can talk to myself to work them out. I'm a smart guy.
I probably left some things out but that's pretty much the basic story.
TL;DR Girl inadvertently made me think she liked me, then the realisation hit, and I couldn't get past it. That final piece of damage shattered my mind, and I ended up in therapy.