Yeah, there are always falls. My father was only in marriage counseling because my mother had been going by herself and finally managed to force him to go with her (the prospect of getting divorced again, I think, compelled him). My mom might understand, I don't know, but I have this aversion to therapy because it's like an insult to me. It says, "You're not good enough to solve your own problems. You need someone to do it for you. You're pathetic." Plus the fact that having any sort of problem in the first place makes me feel worthless, because good people don't have problems, ha ha (my mother's deep-set belief).
I don't think that of other people, just myself...that's what I meant, though, about therapy itself being the same sort of situation as what I have with schoolwork. And so I respond the same way to therapists, try to hide my problems from them so they won't "hate" me. I mean, last year just going to ask anyone for help made me cry. I have to be really desperate, have to have given up on myself entirely, before I even get to the point of asking someone else for help. They thought I was like 100 times more crazy simply because I looked like a wreck just trying to make an appointment, it stressed me out so much. I'd get migraines whenever I had an appointment, too, couldn't get any work done those days, broke down crying more often.
I'd probably be a little better about it this year, but the prospect just fills me with dread, like a cat going to the veterinarian (like Tess, who used to wedge herself in the cat carrier such that you couldn't get her out even if you turn it with the door facing straight down).
I mean, I don't hate a lot of people either, but yeah, I'd rather not interact with the vast majority of people.
I think that's true--you are more intellectually compatible with me than most, if not all, the friends I've had.
no subject
Yeah, there are always falls. My father was only in marriage counseling because my mother had been going by herself and finally managed to force him to go with her (the prospect of getting divorced again, I think, compelled him). My mom might understand, I don't know, but I have this aversion to therapy because it's like an insult to me. It says, "You're not good enough to solve your own problems. You need someone to do it for you. You're pathetic." Plus the fact that having any sort of problem in the first place makes me feel worthless, because good people don't have problems, ha ha (my mother's deep-set belief).
I don't think that of other people, just myself...that's what I meant, though, about therapy itself being the same sort of situation as what I have with schoolwork. And so I respond the same way to therapists, try to hide my problems from them so they won't "hate" me. I mean, last year just going to ask anyone for help made me cry. I have to be really desperate, have to have given up on myself entirely, before I even get to the point of asking someone else for help. They thought I was like 100 times more crazy simply because I looked like a wreck just trying to make an appointment, it stressed me out so much. I'd get migraines whenever I had an appointment, too, couldn't get any work done those days, broke down crying more often.
I'd probably be a little better about it this year, but the prospect just fills me with dread, like a cat going to the veterinarian (like Tess, who used to wedge herself in the cat carrier such that you couldn't get her out even if you turn it with the door facing straight down).
I mean, I don't hate a lot of people either, but yeah, I'd rather not interact with the vast majority of people.
I think that's true--you are more intellectually compatible with me than most, if not all, the friends I've had.