hobbydevil
Anxiously biting fingernails.
- Sep 8, 2019
- 60
... when I ctb, and somehow that thought alone is breaking me, too.
It's... I'm horrible.
I have a family who loves me, both of my parents, a little sister, other relatives... All of them have invested so much time and energy and money and love into me over years and years. The thought of letting them all down and hurting them really hurts me, too.
But strangely, at the moment nothing makes me feel quite as guilty about planning my death as what my therapist has said...
She told me that if I died... she'd be haunted by it forever. She sounded really worried and pained.
I know what you might think... It's her job, right? I pay her to care.
But she's so much more than that to me.
She makes her sessions so cheap for me so I can afford seeing her as often as I feel I need to. She listens to me for hours on end. She's so different from all the therapists I've seen before. I've come to trust her a lot and I've never been this open with a therapist before now, and that says a lot because I've seen quite a few...
I can be so raw with her. She's truly someone very important in my life right now.
Too bad I found her so late.
Had I met her five or four years earlier it might have changed everything for me. Back then I ended up with a therapist who didn't care about me at all and who made things worse in a multitude of ways, blind to the issues I had, not curious to even really understand me, and who cheered on my self-harming above all else.
Being a repressed lesbian and unknowingly picking a homophobic man as your therapist wasn't my best move.
I learned the hard way that a bad therapist can be much much worse than having none at all.
She's so different... not even just from him but every therapist I've had before.
But like this, as nice as it is, it also just feels like torture to be shown what I could have had and what could have saved me from a lot of pain in these past couple of years.
Now I find myself in this dilemma.
I love talking to her. She makes passing the time until my ctb date so much more bearable.
But at the same time... I am going to disappoint and hurt her. I know I will. I am getting attached to her, but I think she also cares a lot about me by now...
All that kindness and time and energy she's offering me, it could go to someone else who actually wants to live.
I feel like an energy vampire.
Yesterday she dropped the kicker on me.
She informed me she got invited to speak at a conference where I'm going to speak as well. She asked me if I am comfortable with that, and also told me that our work in therapy is her priority - meaning that if I said "no" she won't accept the invitation.
She could tell what I thought immediately... I'd be nervous as hell with her there.
Now she's set on not accepting the invitation... and I feel horrible about it.
She's such a brilliant woman. They deserve to hear her speak. Who cares about me? I am most likely going to be dead by March! It would be so selfish of me to keep her from it just so I can be there. If anything, I should be the one stepping down...
I'm so close to just writing her an email stating that I don't want to continue talking to her.
But as she knows about my suicidal thoughts she'd probably just be alarmed about that and inform my friends or family - I was dumb enough to give her the number of someone to contact in case she suspects I'm posing a real danger to myself.
The manipulative side of me tries to come up with ways to make her drop me, and tries to convince myself that she doesn't actually care, but the moment I talk to her I just can't bring myself to be mean or even cold.
She has such a motherly vibe about her.
But I need to remind myself she's not... That. She's my therapist. She has a life of her own, a family, children, other clients.
She'll be okay if I died, right?
God, I shouldn't have let myself get talked into giving therapy another try...
It's... I'm horrible.
I have a family who loves me, both of my parents, a little sister, other relatives... All of them have invested so much time and energy and money and love into me over years and years. The thought of letting them all down and hurting them really hurts me, too.
But strangely, at the moment nothing makes me feel quite as guilty about planning my death as what my therapist has said...
She told me that if I died... she'd be haunted by it forever. She sounded really worried and pained.
I know what you might think... It's her job, right? I pay her to care.
But she's so much more than that to me.
She makes her sessions so cheap for me so I can afford seeing her as often as I feel I need to. She listens to me for hours on end. She's so different from all the therapists I've seen before. I've come to trust her a lot and I've never been this open with a therapist before now, and that says a lot because I've seen quite a few...
I can be so raw with her. She's truly someone very important in my life right now.
Too bad I found her so late.
Had I met her five or four years earlier it might have changed everything for me. Back then I ended up with a therapist who didn't care about me at all and who made things worse in a multitude of ways, blind to the issues I had, not curious to even really understand me, and who cheered on my self-harming above all else.
Being a repressed lesbian and unknowingly picking a homophobic man as your therapist wasn't my best move.
I learned the hard way that a bad therapist can be much much worse than having none at all.
She's so different... not even just from him but every therapist I've had before.
But like this, as nice as it is, it also just feels like torture to be shown what I could have had and what could have saved me from a lot of pain in these past couple of years.
Now I find myself in this dilemma.
I love talking to her. She makes passing the time until my ctb date so much more bearable.
But at the same time... I am going to disappoint and hurt her. I know I will. I am getting attached to her, but I think she also cares a lot about me by now...
All that kindness and time and energy she's offering me, it could go to someone else who actually wants to live.
I feel like an energy vampire.
Yesterday she dropped the kicker on me.
She informed me she got invited to speak at a conference where I'm going to speak as well. She asked me if I am comfortable with that, and also told me that our work in therapy is her priority - meaning that if I said "no" she won't accept the invitation.
She could tell what I thought immediately... I'd be nervous as hell with her there.
Now she's set on not accepting the invitation... and I feel horrible about it.
She's such a brilliant woman. They deserve to hear her speak. Who cares about me? I am most likely going to be dead by March! It would be so selfish of me to keep her from it just so I can be there. If anything, I should be the one stepping down...
I'm so close to just writing her an email stating that I don't want to continue talking to her.
But as she knows about my suicidal thoughts she'd probably just be alarmed about that and inform my friends or family - I was dumb enough to give her the number of someone to contact in case she suspects I'm posing a real danger to myself.
The manipulative side of me tries to come up with ways to make her drop me, and tries to convince myself that she doesn't actually care, but the moment I talk to her I just can't bring myself to be mean or even cold.
She has such a motherly vibe about her.
But I need to remind myself she's not... That. She's my therapist. She has a life of her own, a family, children, other clients.
She'll be okay if I died, right?
God, I shouldn't have let myself get talked into giving therapy another try...
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