Syvelocin
March 19th, 2010, 08:15 PM
We're going on professional number eight in my life right now.
My hope that there are people who can help me that are kind, caring, and there to listen is steadily declining, especially with the psychologist I just gave up on.
She was on my nerves. Very stern, though she's the one my GOOD psychiatrist recommended (when she stated, "you need to see an experienced, specialized psychologist...") I handed her my journal, and she agreed to read through it. See, I'm a writer, and have a much better time expressing my feelings and ideas on paper. I'm socially impaired with my social anxiety disorder and things just don't come out right, if at all, so I let her take this advantage as she wished. When she gave me the journal back, she said she skimmed it, and then completely ignored everything but my mania and my self-harm (as I did mention my OCD, social anxiety disorder, and other mental problems I've been having). That somewhat upset me.
And then during the next session, she had my mother in. It was all fine at first, she was just telling me not to straighten her pictures on the wall and leave them crooked, then my mother brings up my self-harm. She deludes my mother, telling her to rid the house of everything and anything I could use to hurt myself, scissors, razors, glass, knives, and safety-proof the house, even if it means going through my room with or without my permission. "You're the parent, and you need to keep her safe."
No way. First, if she even read my journal, she would know that I am forced into therapy and have no wish as of now to get help. I'm in that stage where I see nothing wrong with it, though addicted. Self-harm is what has been keeping me from my suicidal compulsions. So I had my mother and this specialized adult against me, while in my mind I knew that it wasn't what was best for me. It would be killing me. I was intensely afraid of fearing myself again.
I'm sure this isn't the right way to go about it, yes? I have dropped this woman, because she cannot be helpful to me this way. And my mother has another psychologist I am to see during spring break.
That week when this happened, I had made the best (worst, if you don't think in my twisted way, as I think blood and scars are pretty) scar so far. And I switched back to cutting on my arms. I'm sick of hiding them, too. Not in an attention-seeking way, but just, I guess, being comfortable with the fact that this is who I am, and it's not going to go away anytime soon.
I just wish I had someone to talk to, like I do my Lit. teacher. My school counselor has the "You cut yourself again? Alex, don't do that" response everytime, and the school social worker has taken an interest in me, not leaving me alone and no matter what I say, thinks I am plagued with an evil curse instead of doing what I want to do. But then, my World Lit. teacher is 25, not specialized in any counseling or therapy areas, but is smarter and more helpful than anyone I've come across. It makes no sense.
Thanks for listening, or not. 'Tis all for now.
My hope that there are people who can help me that are kind, caring, and there to listen is steadily declining, especially with the psychologist I just gave up on.
She was on my nerves. Very stern, though she's the one my GOOD psychiatrist recommended (when she stated, "you need to see an experienced, specialized psychologist...") I handed her my journal, and she agreed to read through it. See, I'm a writer, and have a much better time expressing my feelings and ideas on paper. I'm socially impaired with my social anxiety disorder and things just don't come out right, if at all, so I let her take this advantage as she wished. When she gave me the journal back, she said she skimmed it, and then completely ignored everything but my mania and my self-harm (as I did mention my OCD, social anxiety disorder, and other mental problems I've been having). That somewhat upset me.
And then during the next session, she had my mother in. It was all fine at first, she was just telling me not to straighten her pictures on the wall and leave them crooked, then my mother brings up my self-harm. She deludes my mother, telling her to rid the house of everything and anything I could use to hurt myself, scissors, razors, glass, knives, and safety-proof the house, even if it means going through my room with or without my permission. "You're the parent, and you need to keep her safe."
No way. First, if she even read my journal, she would know that I am forced into therapy and have no wish as of now to get help. I'm in that stage where I see nothing wrong with it, though addicted. Self-harm is what has been keeping me from my suicidal compulsions. So I had my mother and this specialized adult against me, while in my mind I knew that it wasn't what was best for me. It would be killing me. I was intensely afraid of fearing myself again.
I'm sure this isn't the right way to go about it, yes? I have dropped this woman, because she cannot be helpful to me this way. And my mother has another psychologist I am to see during spring break.
That week when this happened, I had made the best (worst, if you don't think in my twisted way, as I think blood and scars are pretty) scar so far. And I switched back to cutting on my arms. I'm sick of hiding them, too. Not in an attention-seeking way, but just, I guess, being comfortable with the fact that this is who I am, and it's not going to go away anytime soon.
I just wish I had someone to talk to, like I do my Lit. teacher. My school counselor has the "You cut yourself again? Alex, don't do that" response everytime, and the school social worker has taken an interest in me, not leaving me alone and no matter what I say, thinks I am plagued with an evil curse instead of doing what I want to do. But then, my World Lit. teacher is 25, not specialized in any counseling or therapy areas, but is smarter and more helpful than anyone I've come across. It makes no sense.
Thanks for listening, or not. 'Tis all for now.