The Mean Dorky Ex Therapist Who Dresses Badly is the object of my bad therapy visualizations. I can remember how he looked when he wasn’t listening to me in my next to last session and how he looked when he told me he was terminating me in my one and only termination session.
It’s awful how ai can go back to those times in an instant. Sometimes I don’t recognize any provocation, I’m just back there.
I’m resigned that I will always hurt from how he treated me. I think it’s because of how he looked at me. It’s like when your lover looks at you different. You can tell they aren’t looking at you in the way they used to. The Therapist had the cold look of an annoyed stranger who didn’t fucking care what happened to me. I bet if an assailant had barged into my house and attacked me he wouldn’t have been concerned, wouldn’t have called the police. Good, that fucking client is gone now, not my problem, effectively terminated.
Interestingly, I’ve had men do this same type of shit. Sometimes they are just emotionally overwhelmed and they shut down because they have weak emotional processors. They still care about me, but they’re too withdrawn to show it.
Sometimes they care about me so much they shut down to avoid those feelings.
Both experiences suck to be the recipient of.
Don’t worry, The Therapist has a good reputation. It’s fine if he hates a client into her oblivion or if he cares about a client too much and avoids it at all costs so he can seem strong. Newsflash, when men do this avoiding shit they don’t seem strong at all, but I guess what matters is they think they seem strong.
I usually simplify all of this by saying The Therapist hates me.
I believe Aaron Gleaves hates me with a deep avoidant hatred. I don’t know why, but why doesn’t matter. All that matters are his feelings. That’s all that we focused on in my second to last session and that’s all he had in mind when he planned my piss poor excuse of a termination session.
I visualize it like it was yesterday. I’m usually pretty quick to do some kind of physical coping when it happens. It usually works. I can often visualize it from an analytical point of view without feeling it.
Feeling that over and over again, from a supposed fucking professional is terrible. You can’t just chalk it up to a weak boyfriend or abusive husband.
My therapist hurt me and he did so willingly and knowingly in ways only someone who knew certain things about me could do
He broke his contract as my therapist and destroyed my trust in him and in the therapy process.
But I’ll do some jumping jacks and some deep breathing and write it out on my stupid blog.
And I’ll yell fuck you Aaron Gleaves and the fucking degenerate company you work for that is fine with hurting clients.
Fuck you. Jumping jacks breathe and tap tap and push ups and
Yeah go fuck yourself you avoidant fake therapist prick.