The time I started seeing a therapist

I finally decided to go see a therapist.

I did not want to spend too much so I was able to find a sliding scale clinic who offered sessions with students getting their PhD. I was not excited but for $60/session what can you expect.

So I finally went in today.
My therapist is a relatively young girl (I would have preferred a male therapist as they tend not to make those compassionate faces when you break down in tears). To be honest is not as young as I thought. maybe not much younger than myself.

She calls herself an Extern which is a term I had never heard before.

I sat down, we started talking. Obviously I shed some tears and out came that face, that face that said:”I am so sorry for you, maybe I can help you or maybe not but I still feel so bad for you” I hate that face. I dealt with it, this clinic has no male therapists which makes sense, most therapists are women (generally speaking, at least in NY).

So we spoke for 45 minutes, I am not sure if I felt judged, maybe not but I definitely don’t feel comfortable yet. Maybe I should? I have no idea. She was trying to put in my mouth that I tried to comit suicide which I never did, she also tried to make me “admit” that I seeked hospital help for suicidal thoughts, which again I NEVER did. Now that I am thinking about it maybe I won’t go back, didn’t sound that great.

Oh well, that was my experience with a therapist. Pretty short lived I guess.

Neeeeext!

 

 

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