Therapy is not for Bliss Ninnies
a tough session
Today was the most painful therapy session I’ve ever had. I take it all back about my wonderful therapist! She’s really just a steam shovel. I guess this was bound to happen. Honeymoon over.

“Since you keep writing in your blogs that I am your therapist, and not an ordinary person in your life, and that your anger doesn’t mean in this context what it ordinarily would, let’s talk about that,” she said.
“Well,” I said, “I’ve told you there have been a lot of cut-offs in my life. People who decided they did not want to be in contact with me any more.”
“What’s your fear?” she asked.
“I’m afraid you will tell me, ‘No more therapy, we’re done.’”
“You said you were trying to shred me,” she said, “but I will tell you that I did not feel shredded.”
I am secretly disappointed. I tell her that I could have shredded her, but the session ended. She nods.
“Are you cold? Why are you shaking?” she asks.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen. I didn’t know there was a part of me that hates you. When I go into that part, anything could happen. Then I don’t care whether I ever see you again,” I said.
She assures me that she is not going to dismiss me as a client, but she does something much worse. She shreds ME! Here’s how it happened:
First we decide that she should talk to the part of me that is so afraid and is shaking. As a now small child I tell her that I don’t like monsters. I hide in a cloud when the monsters come. From there we go on to talk about Curly Girl, the part of me who knows how to get people to like her.
“Most of us don’t like Curly Girl,” the angry one says. “We think she is an ass licker. She just does whatever people want. She’s basically a whore.”
My therapist says something I don’t remember.
From the angry part, I tell her, “Well she tricked you, too.” Meaning Curly Girl got her to like me, but it was all just a trick, a whole year of therapy, with Curly Girl just tricking her into liking me.
“I guess I wasn’t smart enough,” my therapist says. Then she tells me it’s time to end the session.

The angry one is furious! The angry one thinks my therapist is ending the session because she can’t deal with the anger. The angry one says something about this.
“You are angry because your therapist can’t take away your pain?” she asked.
“No. That’s not it.”
“It might not be,” she said.
“It’s what you said, ‘I guess I wasn’t smart enough.’ Were you making a joke?”
“No,” she said. “You need to know that your therapist can be tricked.”
I open my eyes and look at her. I say, “Well, I guess I should stop trying to trick you then.”
She smiles and nods.
We’ve gone ten minutes over the hour. “That whole session felt like five minutes,” I say. “I hate going over!”
“I know,” she says, “but you weren’t in a good place. And Bob didn’t step in to help us end on time.”
“No,” I say, “my magic didn’t work.”
I still wasn’t in a good place, I was angry, I was confused, but I left the office. A big part of my identity, and most of whatever success I’ve had, has been based on tricking people into liking me.
So now what?

