I have now had three appointments with that shrink and well, I think it’s time for me to move on.
Or is it?
And this is my problem. I just can’t seem to decide if it’s all a simple test from the Universe to see how far I’ve truly come, or that it really is time to find another, or if I am just fleeing because I’m not liking the tune she chooses to sing. And I really did try with her. I wanted to give her a second chance because our first ever encounter was quite liberating for me. I felt like I had found a person who’d listen, get it and not judge. We were sympatico, I guess. I did hope that by the third session I’d find that I was too quick to disfavour and way too harsh on her. It was just another case of me being too sensitive per usual, but everything about that meet was just so amiss and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so condemned in my life. Overall this entire experience, though only short, has left behind the most vilest of tastes. I’ve joked for years how I’d need to see a shrink over my childhood one day and now that day is here because of this sudden onslaught of anxiety I am questioning it. I mean, shouldn’t it help you because I don’t feel like it’s helping me. It has pointed out a few things, sure, but I always knew those demons existed and I connected the dots long ago. They were hidden from plain sight by everyone other than myself. And now someone else is privy to them, and not just via the Internets anonymously, but actually has a name and a face to go by. And I feel like I’m being judged and condescended upon for it.
Is this what it’s supposed to be like though? Am I supposed to feel so attacked and under duress during our sessions? And why does she insist upon going back to my childhood when it’s anxiety over my health that troubles me at night. It’s the anxiety over my heart and fear of its sudden demise that brought me to her in the first place.
From the moment I sat down I knew things were off kilter. I needed to steer the conversation onto the topic of my anxiety and health since the past few days had been a struggle. Manageable, but a struggle no less. I wanted to inform her of those incessant heart beats that cause concern both during the light and dark hours of the day, and how I’ve become much more sensitive to spontaneous sounds, especially those that go bump in the night. Yet she pushed it aside, as if completely irrelevant. Asking about where we had left off on, which is standard I know, but this time round she just didn’t seem that interested. She didn’t even make a strong point of thoroughly examining her notes on our previous sessions so all advice given, nay, advice that was chastised upon me like a child being scolded, was not at all appropriate to my situation.Which was really disappointing considering we had gotten to some home truths about myself. Things like fear ultimately operating my entire life and in particular my distress over rejection which was most dominant. She made the point again for me to seek financial assistance and whatever the outcome was to just take it, even if it meant declaring bankruptcy. Yes that same, stupid song. I told her no. Again. Bankruptcy was just not an option because I had hope of a reckoning soon, and because I couldn’t sentence myself to a further seven years of being caged within this continent. Plus my grandfather is nearing ninety. Hell, most of my great aunts and uncles overseas have hit their nineties and should something happen to any of them, I know my parents would fly me over there, even if it meant paying for me. But to have that no-fly ban against my name would mean I could not leave to see them.
And that is cause alone.
Then unbelievably she wanted me to ask my parents for help. Just ask them to cough up the 20k I owe. Just ask them, even though I knew it would be a no, still ask. And all because there could be a 2% chance they’d assist. And even though the outcome would be a firm no, at least I tried and knew for certain. She insisted and insisted I do this task. Honestly, did she not remember our previous session? Why would I put myself out there like that again, especially when I know the answer will be a heartbreaking no? What, to face my fears? I’d rather try another situation please because this is just not one I am willing to proceed with, no matter how “beneficial” it may or may not be. Sorry, but no can do.
End of story.
And then she kept droning on again with that line that hopes and dreams are for children, and I am no longer a child. I am an adult and needed to start behaving like one. To revoke permission for my fear to control and rule me as it has. And I needed to stop concealing away like a child, running away to avoid confrontation because it’s just easier for me. Removing myself from situations in hopes to avoid it was counterproductive. Conflict and hurt are a part of life and I needed to accept it because it happens and will continue to happen period. I am adult and I have every right to defend myself, put myself first and to understand that life is full of disappointments and confrontation. It can’t and shouldn’t be avoided because it needs to be dealt with. I need to deal with it. Which I understand completely and I don’t think I run for the hills every time the skies turn grey and the seas look rough. The thing is, I believe I know how to pick my battles and which ones are worth fighting for. I also believe in Karma and try to be nice and kind as much as possible. Though I didn’t let on with the latter for fear of more chastising about me aimlessly walking around with my head in the clouds. In referring to my parents I am much too passive when it heats up, but most of the time I know it’s not a battle worth drawing blood over because all efforts are futile. They see everything black and white. There are no greys tones. I know this and have come to expect and somewhat except it. This won’t change because it’s all they’ve ever known and understood; it’s practically in their genetic make up. Sure I do need to stand up for myself, let them know they can’t keep pushing me around like that and treating me like a leper, and it’s something I will endeavour to work on.
But the most unsettling piece of counsel given was that she wanted me to sit down and talk to my parents, informing them of how their actions and insults cut me deep down. Importantly, to sit down when all is calm and well, not when the shit hits the fan.
I was utterly perplexed. Was she bloody serious?
I said from the start that I’ll never be able to get that understanding I seek from them. That apology out of my parents would never take place. But telling them to stop hurting me with their words because it’s detrimentally damaging? For anybody else sure, it could work. But sadly not me. That is an indestructible and inaccessible road and I am somewhat ok with never having it available to me. There really is no point because they don’t and won’t ever see the wrongdoings. But she wanted me to do it, hundreds of times if need be because it will eventually set in with them. They won’t completely change, but with repetition overtime they might think twice about uttering such words. They are human after all and their intention is to not purposely set out to destroy me, which I understand. It’s not their mission deep down to maliciously hurt me daily. I do know this and I said that from day one. They just don’t know any better and it’s something I have to live with. And that is the point I tried making. It is something I have to endure and live with while I am under their roof because there is no escaping it otherwise. It is in their nature and I will tolerate it until I can finally set myself free. No matter how stupid I might sound to others uttering that loudly, it’s just a simple fact of my life right now. And it’s one I don’t think she’ll ever be able to comprehend because we aren’t cut from the same cloth. Her parents probably grew up differently to mine. Mine whom grew up in a small European village where an adults fist ruled and won against his child and signs of emotion were a weakness that should never be expressed.
To tell them their words harm me emotionally? Honestly, what for? It won’t do any good, no matter how many times I say it, it just won’t sink in because they are not programmed in that way; it’s a conditioning. It’s the same thing with gay marriage for example. They will never accept it, no matter if they have family and friends who support it completely or are actually gay themselves. It’s supposed to be between a man and a woman, and that is the end if it. The same goes with religion. They will never welcome someone from another religion other than theirs into the family either. Like I said; black and white. And I have come to accept this about them. I certainly don’t like it nor approve but it’s a generational thing; I get it, it’s just who they are and will always be.
My only way of salvation is to just step away from them, even if that means moving down the road or the next suburb over. Even halfway across the world; distance is the key. Space. Where we are not bumping heads and butting horns constantly. Close enough for pleasantries yet far away enough to keep our distance, set our boundaries and protect our territories. We can come together every now and then and leave right after to do our own thing. That is what needs to be done. I need to get away from them and do my own thing and live my own life; the way that I want. Moving away from all of that negativity and coming into my own finally, allowing myself to fully bloom and spread my wings. Of course we’ll still have issues. Coming over for Sunday lunch isn’t always going to end peacefully, but at the end of it I can simply leave and that is the end of that. And maybe she interprets this as a form of me running away from my issues, but for me it makes prefect sense.
I was born into this, and raised in a certain way. And though I am fortunate enough to know better than that, they don’t. Yet she can’t seem to see my point and she won’t ever really, will she? So that leaves me with my latest conundrum. Do I move on and find another shrink who may better understand, maybe someone of European decent? Who won’t judge me. Or am I just ultimately running away because I don’t like what I hear or have to do? Allowing fear to again steer me in it’s chosen direction.
Running away because I am still that child, afraid to move forward and do what needs to be done?