Please read that title like it's dripping with sarcasm. I hate my first therapist. I saw her because I realized I needed help, and the counseling services at school are free. I know other people who have used the counseling and testing center and loved it, but I was not matched with a good counselor. I'm sure she was great with other people, but she wasn't familiar dealing with sexual assault survivors and she clearly struggled.
One session I was telling her about how I really had a hard time getting my feelings out there. I don't like any emotion besides happiness, and I refused to admit that I had a lot of built up anger, fear, and sadness. Her first piece of advice was to take the stress and anger out on inanimate objects in the privacy of my own apartment. Alright, I could handle that. Let me find some ugly dishes I can smash and a Louisville Slugger I can beat my mattress with. I threw some glasses outside which helped a little, and due to a lack of baseball bat I had to resort to beating my mattress with a hammer. Only slightly helpful...the hammer is so tiny and covers less surface area. LAME. Those things only provided momentary comfort, and I almost immediately went way back into my funk.
The next session I told her that breaking things wasn't really helping. So her advice was..."break things." Giiiiiiirl did you NOT just hear what I said? I calmly (okay maybe not so calmly, imagine me hyperventilating at this point) explained that I did not think that would work. So she told me to express my anger. She said "You can even use some 4 or 5 letter words if it would make you feel better!" Oh man I was cussing up a storm. I dropped my favorite word at the time that happened to start with an F so many times I lost count. I'll let you use your imagination for the rest :) After I was done, I felt like a weight had been lifted off of my chest until I saw the look on Ms. Therapist of the Year's face. She looked me straight in the eye and goes "those weren't quite the words I was thinking of". I'm sorry Madam Psychologist! Were you expecting something more along the lines of "Oh fiddlesticks!" "What a meanie!" "I'm so angry I could just eat a pint of ice cream and cry it out to a Nicholas Sparks movie!" Not my style. I'm a yankee and I've got some colorful language that works its way out in these situations. There are some people I don't swear in front of ever (my parents are not included in this club) but I felt like a therapist is someone I could do that with because she wanted me to express myself. Maybe she would have preferred an interpretive dance...I'm good at those! Ask my parents and Grandma about my "interpretive dance with pickle" to Purple Snowflakes that I whipped out in the middle of dinner one time. INSPIRED.
One thing this woman did accomplish was making me feel like a complete lunatic! Suicidal thoughts? Let me shout to the entire office that you need an emergency psychiatrist appointment because you're a self harm risk! Fleeting harmful thoughts you won't act on? HIDE THE RAZORS YALL AND GO TO THE HOSPITAL! Oh you're feeling depressed? That sucks....walk it off champ. The only good thing this goon has done is send me to the greatest psychiatrist ever. As soon as I walked in and told him why I was there he says "F***IN DBAG! Do you ever feel like you want to walk up to guys like that, cut off their d**ks and shove it down their throat!?" <---I just offended about 20 different people with that sentence...oh well. The point was this guy understood. He was as angry as I was and showed me it was ok to show it. I am so sad I don't get to be a patient of his anymore. Curse you graduation!
Therapist #1. You....I don't even know. I hope I was the only one who felt like you sucked. I cannot imagine anyone finding you helpful. Maybe you just weren't a good fit. I don't want anyone to read this and get discouraged about going to therapy, though. I have an awesome therapist now who is a perfect fit for me. Sometimes you just have to look a little harder for a good fit :)
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