Home » A Wasted Life » Counselors – Do We Love ‘Em Or Hate ‘Em?

Counselors – Do We Love ‘Em Or Hate ‘Em?

I have gone to counselors for the last ten years.  The way each one of them has approached the sessions has varied from having a real break-through on certain aspects, to leaving me wanting to punch them in the face.
At some point, I have made every one of them cry.
The first counselor I went to could have probably helped us immensely but Loser had finally gotten another job and moved away so the sessions became almost useless.
Loser wasn’t interested in participating (by way of making a trip to join me) so the counselor fashioned our meetings in a way that could involve him.  He was supposed to do everything that I was asked to do.
He never did any of them and the last time I mentioned something that the counselor said about him, his response was “tell her to go fuck herself.”  So much for that.
When Loser met his WTC, he sought permission from a psychiatrist to start fucking her while he was still married to me.  I’m sure he did EVERYTHING the psychiatrist told him to do because he now had somebody who was important enough to (as he put it) make him want to “try to be a better man.”
I eventually moved and I tried to make it for a while before I sought more help.  It seemed like I tried everybody.
One of them told me to write down everything that had hurt me the most in life.  It was excruciatingly painful but I did it.  I thought we were going to go over the things and talk about them.  Instead, I was told to “tear the paper up into tiny little pieces, burn it and offer it to God.”  That approach does not work for me.
I had a counselor who wanted to “role play.”  That didn’t work for me, either.
I went to another counselor who spent half of the visit, trying to get me to promise her that I would read the book “The Help.”  I had never heard of it then, was not and am not now a reader and told her.  She was from New York and I was Southern.  She wanted to talk to me about how Southern women treated their maids.  I told her that I had never had a maid and then asked her what that possibly had to do with having been betrayed.  I left and told her that I wouldn’t be back.
One of my counselors said “you weren’t abused…you were tortured” and then started crying, uncontrollably.  I felt like she needed to go to a counselor.
I once had a counselor tell me that I was clearly so damaged that I would never recover.  After that statement, I stopped seeking help for quite a while.
I have been to a counselor who, before we even started the session, looked at me and said “you are so sad, I can literally see you crying on the inside.”  They went on to talk briefly about why I was there and what I wanted to accomplish.  I tried to come up with something that didn’t sound like a prefabricated pile of bullshit.
During the session, they mentioned the word “love.”  My reaction caused them to rear back in their seat and say “you literally cringed when I said that word.”
They were right.  I was disgusted.  I wanted to throw up.  I didn’t want to talk about it.  I didn’t want to hear about how there is “somebody out there who will love me the way I have always deserved to be loved.”  But…I have to hear that word…I have to be able to hear that word without the nausea and the recoil….and I will try.
I will continue to go, with high hopes and wishful thinking.  I will continue to think that there is a possibility for healing and being able to actually have a life that is devoid of pain and sorrow.  I will try.

17 thoughts on “Counselors – Do We Love ‘Em Or Hate ‘Em?

  1. Laurel…love the idea of the Quilt of Ugly. what I’ve done with my journal. The journal of ugly. I spilled every vile thought, idea, hurt, anger, judgement, etc onto pages and pages and pages of word docs. And I also used the voice recorder on my iphone to cry out…if I had to drive for three hours…I voice journaled. Yes…I LOVE the idea and hope you will do it. Please keep going to counseling – search until you find the right one (sounds like you might be on the path now). For you more than anything else I want FREEDOM…

    Liked by 2 people

    • I mentioned to somebody about the prospect of making a quilt, representing all of the sadness, pain and bullshit. I decided that if and after I made it, I would then cut it up into tiny pieces and throw it away. They were horrified that I would create a “beautiful work of art and then destroy it.” I thought I had a real marriage, until Loser destroyed it. I had no control over that but I would have control of destroying the quilt. That might be a good question to ask my shrink.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. So… Why don’t you try? Make a quilt of ugly. Of hate. Push it all out. You seem to look at these folks who are asking you to deal with your emotions… It might be frilly, it might be different and silly. But what’s the harm? My dad does counselling, he has people who struggle with showing emotion to journal with their left hand. Why? Because that’s the artistic part of your brain and when you journal with that hand, your brain plugs into totally different… Stuff. Maybe you have to push something out of the creative space to be unblocked. I have no clue. Start with a potholder. That’s small. It will take an hour of your time and may prove your able to make something. And that’s one step. One step forward.


  3. I think you are awesome. You may have been battered by the mental and physical abuse thrown at you but you’re still standing. You’ve shown that you are by far the better person. Shame on them for treating you that way and kudos to you for seeking help…….You were surrounded by people with serious mental issues…..not your fault, but no less painful for you. I hope with all my heart that you find the honest love that you deserve. Your one reward in the soap opera that you lived is your exceptional artistic and writing talent. Enjoy it and share it. We are enriched by your sharing……I repeat, you are awesome.

    Liked by 2 people

    • I am really hopeful that there can be some recovery with this new counselor and I am excited but….I still want to break down and scream and cry and ask “why?” If just one thing that I used to love to do could become part of my life again, that would be a start. I’d love to make a quilt, expressing gratitude for all the support I have gotten during my “journey into darkness.” It would require me to use the talent I didn’t inherit (imagination) but I sure would love to give it a shot. Maybe….


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