F*ck Therapy (wherein I call Nathan an unfeeling bastard)

Some things in my life are coming to a head. Things I don’t go into detail about here. This is still an anonymous blog after all.

I read about others going to therapy and it being well… therapeutic. I have friends who are therapists… and I know they help people. I know all this in my head. But I won’t do it. Will. Not. Why? For several reasons, the foremost being that my shit is my shit to deal with. And I want to deal with it alone. Heaven forbid I get told how I handle it is wrong.

So I don’t do therapy.

So when things start to come unwound I simply wind up tighter. And tighter. Until something snaps. Last night I snapped. And Nathan was there for it.

“You don’t understand,” I sobbed.

“I do,” he argued, “But I think you’re wrong.”

I railed against him for an hour and a half. There were tears, angry words, wailing and gnashing of teeth. We were in each other’s face. Literally at the other’s throat. I called him an unfeeling bastard. You see, I wanted his support in something that he fundamentally disagrees with me about. This something is more important than anything I’ve faced in a very long time.

Somewhere in the altercation I quieted and in a low, almost gravely voice I said, “Nathan, you are my person. You are the man who matters to me more than anyone. And I’m your person. We know this. And [this issue] matters to me deeply. And as my person, even though you disagree, I need you to support me in this. Even if you don’t believe in it. I need you to be supportive.”

Whatever Nathan was going to say only came out as a giant exhale. We both stood in my bedroom. Still. Unmoving. I poked the bear once more.

“I hope you make the right decision,” I said, my eyes narrowed and my chin lifted. It was a dare. A not-so-veiled threat. What would he choose? His pride, his viewpoint, his constant need to be right? Or me.

Our eyes held for a long time. The sort of hold so intense that you can see the other’s eyes darting back and forth between your own.

“Ok,” he said.

I lifted an eyebrow.

“Ok,” he repeated, “I don’t agree. And I’m not going to pretend to. But I will be supportive.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Later I shed more tears, but not ones in anger. Just the bitter tears of sorrow and frustration and unnecessary self-blame.

“You can’t blame yourself,” Nathan said. “This isn’t your fault. Do you see that?”

“I’m not stupid,” I sniffed, “I know it’s not. But what I know isn’t helping how I feel. There’s a difference.”

Much later, we were in bed, me with a book, him with his iPad, unwinding in our usual way. I leaned over and kissed him on his bare shoulder.

“I’m sorry for the hurtful things I said in the heat of the moment,” I whispered.

“It’s ok baby,” he said, giving me a peck on the forehead.

“I really am sorry.”

“I know.”

The man may not understand the difference between thinking and feelings, but I’ll give him this: never once, during my entire diatribe, did he attack me verbally. He took what I dished out. He defended himself. He disagreed vehemently with me. But he did not go on the offensive.

Wouldn’t it be better not to snap? Maybe. Would a therapy session have let to me get to my moment of clarity sooner and without so much drama? Perhaps. But here’s the real reason I don’t believe therapy would help me: I wouldn’t be honest with my therapist. I know this. And, besides… I have y’all. So like I said: fuck therapy.

26 thoughts on “F*ck Therapy (wherein I call Nathan an unfeeling bastard)

  1. Therapy is a very loose term. Fortunately for you, your convictions are strong — which is sometimes all the therapy you really need. Although we’re here to fill in the gaps if needed ;)

  2. Therapy isn’t for everyone. My brother and I have similar childhood issues. I went the therapy route and he waffles; thinking about it, but not doing it. I can relate to not wanting to bare everything out there. It’s painful and it’s difficult. Many times I wanted to quit because of the pain. But the crap I was carrying around with me was much more toxic than the healing pain of therapy. You’ll figure out what road you want as life goes on. And Nathan sounds like a keeper.

    • Hi Gina. He is a keeper. And regarding the therapy… what you describe is what I’ve noticed. One chooses to either bury it deep and block the toxic, drag it out and deal with it, or be miserable.

  3. Therapy is good if you are willing to be honest about yourself, writing though is it’s own type of catharsis. For me that is one of the draws of D/s, it demands openness and honesty. I have to agree with Gina, Nat sounds like a good guy once the dust settled.

    • Myself is just about the only person I’m willing to be honest with. Which is why I’m pretty sure I would be a failure at a D/s relationship. :) Nathan is very special.

  4. Therapy if you’re not willing to talk openly to the therapist is not going to help you, it’ll just frustrate you more and be a waste of money. I believe I had the same approach to confession. I could never tell the priest my actual faults. No way Jose! So I never confessed. Not in the religious sense.
    However, I also think that people have this wrong idea about what therapy is and what a therapist does. A therapist will never tell you what to do or what not to do. They will not be judgemental and will not make you feel like what you did was a mistake. They will ask you the right questions so that you can explore yourself what you did, why you believe it was a mistake, how you think you could fix it, or at least fix the feelings triggered when you think about it. They will provide a safe sounding board, a place where you are free to explore your emotions without feeling like you have to bury them deep inside or hide them behind anger or sadness. They can also help in making you realise you’re not alone suffering from these same issues.
    At least that’s what therapy brought me.
    This said, writing does provide me with something similar right now, enough so that I don’t feel the need for therapy any more. Of course, it may just be a way for me to avoid what I’d discussed with one of my last therapists : that I should really pursue therapy in my mother tongue rather than English, that it would help me connect experiences with the words I was surrounded with at the time.
    Instead, I use my blog and friends as my therapists, but I still do this in English :-(
    And thank you for this, because this is something I have just realised, writing this comment :-)

    As a side note: I was slightly disappointed. I was hoping there would be some fuck therapy in this post and that we’d get to be voyeurs once more ;-)

    Hugs. Good luck with whatever is so close to your heart!

    • First… I would have never guessed that English isn’t your native tongue. I just assumed (and here I will sound so very American) that because your English is so perfect and captures so much nuance that you were from somewhere that English was the main language and had just moved to Europe. Silly me!
      Next, with therapy, if I could truly believe that the person opposite me wouldn’t be judgmental… then maybe I could consider it. But I’m just not wired that way. And that’s ok. Most of the time I’m good.
      Lastly… there was no fuck therapy to be had. I was too emotionally drained. And I doubt there will be any tonight. My libido is still good… but my heart isn’t in it.

      • Well… thank you for your praise! It means a lot coming from such a delightful writer as you!
        As I said, if you can’t open up properly, then therapy is probably a waste of both time and money. I love the interaction that comes with a blog, it makes the experience that much better than simple journalising!
        As for the fuck therapy… I hope you soon recover from the emotional upheaval that leaves you drained.

  5. I found therapy to be pretty helpful. It wasn’t that she told me what I was doing wrong, but what I wasn’t seeing which was affecting me and how better to approach other’s and myself. She gave me some pretty awesome tools that I still use to this day in relationships. It was really rather enlightening actually :)

    However if you feel that you wouldn’t benefit from it, then you just may not. I thought the same way too, I ended up feeling like I was paying someone for what my friends do for free, but what I was actually paying for was that she offered me extra bits to fall back on when I got stuck in a rut too. So in the end, she was worth every snot filled tissue :D

    Either way, I’m glad that he didn’t get on the offensive and supported you. It’s when you know you’ve got a keeper! Cern does the same thing with me even though I have my crazy moments.

    Hope things calm down soon for you either way.


    • I’m so glad Cern is like that. After the dust clears it’s a pretty amazing feeling. Tonight I’m realizing that I have always used writing as my form of therapy. Even as a little girl I would pour my heart into my diary. Process it. And then feel better and have a clearer approach. Now I still so… but my “journal” can write back. It’s pretty damn amazing. Thank you for being a special part of that.

      • There’s nothing quite as cleansing as an emotional spack attack. At least I totally get it!

        I’ve always written too. It’s great for navel gazing and deep and meaningfuls with yourself (and the blogosphere!).

        I think it’s why I love WP so much. Is the interaction we all have. Even if I can’t offer anything useful. :)

      • It’s born from the hitting of head on the wall results. If the issue is in your core, it’ll find a way to come back and be stronger. If not, how you cope with it can change the issue too. WHO KNOWS – only you. I have to say that I don’t know what you’re talking about soI don’t understand how him agreeing outwardly when he doesn’t really agree is odd to me personally I wonder why that’s important or rather how is that important because he still isn’t aligned, he’s just saying what you want to hear. (See how I get? ) So here, I’m going to let i go, stuff that deep deep down and let you two handle it since I’m clueless. Done. If only all issues were this easy. It’s convenient that it’s not my issues were talking about. Some things can be pushed aside. Knowing which ones can break you apart is the trick.

        • I suppose a simple way to explain why he can support me while still disagreeing is that this is something that doesn’t affect him as personally as it does me. It’s like he has an armchair coach’s view and I’m actually in the game getting all bruised up.

  6. When I went through my divorce several years ago, I was told I should probably talk to a therapist. I just smiled and nodded. Therapy requires a certain amount of trust, and only one person on the planet has ever earned that particular level of trust from me – and it took him six months.

    What I did do is write it all out – the good, the bad, and the ugly. I’m not suggesting you do that here – it would no longer be your private life, if you did. But if you finding writing cathartic at all, a private blog or hell, even a journal may help. Many times I couldn’t process my feelings until I wrote them down and got them out of my head. At that point, i could hold them in my hand, examine them, and decide how I felt – sometimes I could change my thinking, and sometimes I decided not to (I still think the ex is a waste of human space and only good for the little bits of DNA I got from him – a therapist would probably say that’s unhealthy. Oh well.)

    Anyway, therapy isn’t for everyone, and I have no doubt that you’ll find your way of dealing with the things going on. ((HUGS))

    Oh, and Nathan impresses me more and more each time you write about him.

    • Hi there sweet beautiful one. : ) Yes… the earned trust bit is so true. I’m so glad you have that. I do to some extent with a dear, close friend. And I treasure it.

      Nathan is impressive. ;)

      • I always figure any guy that can deal with the crazy shit we say, the anger (justified or not), and our wild ways WITHOUT being an ass about it has to be a keeper in some way, shape, or form. :)

  7. I once tried couples therapy, I was honest, sometimes brutally honest, my now ex was more concerned about looking bad and while he pretended to be listening during the sessions all he did after was rant about me making him look bad and him denying he was as bad as I made him out to be, The one plus side was when I finally decided to walk away for good I did so safe in the knowledge I had done everything in my power to make things work, so I guess sometimes therapy can be good if not actually for the reasons you went but only if you can be totally honest

    • I would say that would be a sour way to end a couple’s therapy session… a long (or short) drive home with him ranting at you for your honesty. Not a positive experience at all. :)

  8. I’m afraid I can’t agree with your view and decision about therapy. I went through some therapy about twenty years ago and it transformed my life. Not that my life was terrible before, but what the therapy did was to help me to understand myself much better than I had done before.

    It’ s not simply about “coping with the shit” but about understanding it, and the big problem with trying to deal with it yourself is that you only have your own perspective on it. You can’t get the broader perspective which leads to understanding because you are you and you are biased. A good trained therapist will help you to get the broader perspective you need.

    I bet that “oh, I never saw it that way before” must be the phrase that therapists hear most, because that’s what it’s all about. And for most people when they understand things better they can rsolve them better.

    So that’s the key thing I think therapists can bring – the broader perspective on your troubling issues that you just cannot provide for yourself.

Talk to me. Please.

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