“How are you, today?” He smiled.
“I am fine.,,,Somewhat fine..eh-uh… Moderately fine,”
I returned from the therapist a while ago. I feel better about this session. He got deeper about my parents’ relationship, their relationships’ effect on me, my mother decrying me, etc.
Sometime during out our talk, I observed the room around me. I didn’t like the reality around: I was sitting in the therapist’s room. Ignoring this feeling I asked, “Well, all parents are like this right?” And he nodded, “NOoooOooOOooOoooo” stretching the “Oooo” part of the word. He said most children see their siblings get the same treatment as they do. Hence they don’t think “too” much of it. While I didn’t have a sibling and analyzed things to a deeper level. Then I asked if he believed if children learnt lessons properly from a beating. He said not.
He’s told me my Mom’s cooking was a necessary thing to do for her child. She shouldn’t have to tell me it’s a “favor”. It’s not like I have a difficulty accepting that. Not anymore, I sought help for it online. And when the doctor said that, I started crying.
I think I cried four times in the therapist’s office :I It’s sort of therapeutic -hearing advice from someone verses reading articles online.
Before I left the room I asked where the bin was to discard my tear-wiped tissues. He showed me a bin with lots of crunched up tissues. “You get more patients like me, huh?” I said pointing at the tissues and he burst out laughing xD He said I was funny. I tried not to laugh as much as him as I threw in my tissue and went out to call my parents back in.
I would rate this session a 3/10. It was better than before. And the doctor told me that I carried my head (thus, my problems) with me again.
Image: Paul Militaru