I'm Done... and I Don't Care (A Rambling)

It's all rubbish. Who cares anymore? I'm so tired of this all.

Had a therapy session today, my second this week. My regular session is on Mondays and as next Monday is a holiday I requested an additional one. I was hoping for an opening next week, just so I didn't have two weeks to wait as my last one (this past Monday) kind of sucked. See, that was the session I told him I was 'done'. Even as I write this it sounds pathetic, but admitting that I'm 'done', well it rather sucks to be honest. After all, as my therapist so bluntly put it, by 'done' I mean dead. I am done, but unfortunately not really done (because I am -sadly- still alive). Anyway I wound up with one today.

Little did I know todays would be worse than Mondays.

How so? Well before my 'confession' of being 'done' we talked of a few other things, one being whether or not I would continue therapy after I graduate. He asked me what it would be like for me to not have therapy any more. I told him it would be one less thing on my schedule. I didn't tell him I have the vague fear that I will be at a loss, that the thought causes some amount of anxiety. Doing so would have been greatly uncomfortable for me, making me feel ashamed at my seeming 'needieness'. I don't know, I can't explain it, but I couldn't do it. And my inability to admit to what I think of as a weakness proved disastrous.

I needed to talk about Monday, I needed to talk about being 'done' and the distress that being 'done' but still being stuck is causing me. However we were not to get to that for some twenty or thirty minutes into the fifty minute session.
I am a bit unclear as to what exactly we talked about. The gist of it is this: my comment about not having therapy being just one less thing on my schedule did not sit well. There was mention of not making progress, of there being 'ethical' concerns about continuing therapy when progress is not being made. What I came away with is that he took my comment as a sign that we were not getting any where, that there was no point to this. I believe that I managed to hurt the guys feelings to some degree and that's cool, he's entitled to those feelings. It wasn't intended. I didn't mean it that way. In my attempt to avoid feeling stupid and ashamed I managed to totally convey the wrong message. And suffered for it today.

It was horrible. I felt bad for his misunderstanding, and hurt by what I interpreted as his giving up on me. That is what it felt like. Like he had given up, like I had failed. Ugh, I wish I could describe it, all I know is that it sucked.

I left feeling worse than when I went in, and have ten days in which to sit with that. Ten days to continue to abuse myself, harm myself, drown in this pain, remain in this misery... And I don't want to do it any more...