Several things are happening in the next five days. Tomorrow night, I confront my father about how he said he would help me go back to school, but yet as I work toward getting money together now so I can start summer classes, his help is nowhere to be found. Saturday, my brother graduates high school, which is fantastic, especially because it was showing like he may not graduate at all. Monday, I made my first therapist appointment, something I have been scared about and have been putting it off.
It’s not like I’ve never been to a therapist before. My whole childhood was populated with therapists, mental health assessments, and prescription drugs. It’s taken me a long time to get away from the mindset of “Therapists have fucked up my life” because of the abuse of the medication system that goes on in West Virginia. If you have money, you have pills.
I’m getting off topic, and I told myself I needed to stop doing that. What I’m really trying to say is that I have never picked out my own therapist before. If it’s anything like picking out shoes, I;d be making bad choices. Sure, they look neat and fit nicely, but they don’t last, and for something like this, I want a lasting relationship.
Making the appointment is one thing, but actually opening up to someone, trusting them? What if they’re not right for me? How can I tell? Well, I only made note of female therapists, so that’s the right direction. It’s not so much that I’m gender biased so much as I just have never felt fully comfortable around a man, and therapy is all about being comfortable around that person.
She asked me on the phone what my problems were. A little blunt, but I managed to stammer through it. Actually, I had made a list just for that occasion, but out of the 15 things I wrote down, I only read the most important 3 that seemed to sum up what exactly I was looking for: How to deal with relationship (meaning my family), my trichotillomania, which has been just awful latel; and that I just needed guidance in life. I’m one person here, sometimes two when the voice in my head decides that it needs to input its opinion. The person I usually go to guidance for is flawed. I’m not saying that therapists aren’t flawed, but they get paid to not let that affect their advice. Also, M2 and I are feuding right now (hence the whole relationships thing).
It’s not like I can really talk to anyone in my life about problems I have. Most people I know have never even lived alone, let alone been through half of what I’ve been through. Plus they might have a strong support network. Mine doesn’t even consist of the crickets that chirp when I ask where everyone is.
This isn’t a pity party. I’m just really nervous about Monday, but excited too, because I can finally get some direction in my life. I do an okay job myself, but sometimes, you just need a second opinion.