09-20-06 @ 6:57 am EDT

These sessions just leave me feeling worse and worse. -_- I'm trying hard not to be so whiny and pissy now, but the appointment itself went like crap, and I don't really have hope for improvement, and that makes me feel very depressed and pointless.

I don't even feel like writing on it much because this time could be better spent taking notes. At least taking notes doesn't make me feel shitty. Psychologist started out with the regular questions--did anything happen during the week? (not really), what about my writing? (still taking notes), did I have any writing to share with her? (handed over the journal entries). She flipped through them a bit, didn't spend much time going over them this week, not that I mind that because I'm afraid of what she'll think when she reads all the stuff I wrote about God. I get very anxious when people read my writing right when I'm there to see them do it, whether it's fiction or real or what. I prefer people to read my writing when I'm not around and comment on it later. But she must not have the free time for that so I don't bring it up.

She said she found it interesting, or whatever, what I'd written about what I really wanted before, to be confident enough in myself not to rely on the opinions of others. She asked how my life would be if that were so. I couldn't really answer because two answers are possible and I honestly don't know which would apply.

The first is the "ideal" answer. I would stop relying on others' opinions, and become so confident that I could get out there in the world and do whatever I want without fear. That's the ideal, and totally impossible. I don't even bother entertaining that idea.

The second is the more realistic one, but still just about impossible for me. I would stop relying on others' opinions, and just go on doing what I do now--sitting at home by myself, writing all the time--only I would no longer care what others think of my writing, I'd no longer care whether they read or not, I'd no longer care whether I contribute something to the world--I'd still be avoidant, but I would at least have myself to rely on. Not an ideal situation, but more believable. Since I have no hopes of ever being a person of worth and getting out in the world, this would be my "ideal situation"--just being as I already am now--the only difference being that I would no longer give a crap what others think of what I write and whether I have friends or not. I. e., similar to how I was between 1997-2000, before going online. I view this as impossible because the only reason I HAD that belief in myself was because I was naive and hadn't yet faced the (online) world, and learned how little what I do matters. Now that I know that, I can never go back to being that naive again. So that's why, short of a miracle, I don't envision even this second scenario happening.

I didn't get to tell her all that because it was too longwinded and complicated. How do you explain this? That if I suddenly got a burst of self-confidence, I would still imagine myself staying at home writing all the time, the same as before? The logical question Psychologist would ask would be, "Why wouldn't you use that confidence to get out there and do something?" And I just didn't feel like going over all that. Why WOULDN'T I get out there and do something? Because it's so foreign to everything I know that I don't even bother contemplating it. It's as foreign a thought as me marrying, having a family, having a job, feeling fulfilled--being a normal person. I don't bother thinking about such things that will never happen.

I. e., even though it isn't the ideal, by now I'm just used to sitting here all the time, writing, and being alone. Why change it? The only FEASIBLE changes I'd like are for me to not be a burden on my parents, and for me to not be lonely. Getting out and doing things...I just find that an idiotic thought. And it's not from lack of trying.

She tried narrowing the question down so I could answer it. What job would I imagine myself doing, if I were able to do it? Writing, I said. So you would still be doing what you do now? I nodded. What would the difference be? "It would matter," I replied. And that's basically it. In lieu of me not caring what anyone else thinks, I then wish that I knew that what I write matters. So I'd like the feedback, would that make me feel happier? "By now I probably wouldn't even believe it," I said, and it's true. For as much as I love feedback, and constantly talk about it, the good feeling I get from it is ephemeral, and I never expect people to remain interested in anything I do beyond a short time. So far experience has proven this repeatedly. I wanted to clarify that to her, but didn't see the point. I honestly USED to believe people when they told me I was talented...it was when I noticed how they just kept seeming to fade away so quickly that I grew to realize that I can't be that talented after all. I would captivate people, hold their attention, if I were talented, wouldn't I? But I didn't bother bringing this up. She's of the school that believes a moment's attention is better than nothing, and I don't really believe that anymore. I want things that last. Trouble is, I don't even believe in those anymore. Witness P. lasting four years and then losing all interest, so much so that he couldn't even tell me why. Somebody who, to the last, signed every e-mail with "Your friend," and then just...started ignoring me, and disappeared. That was the end of me believing in people telling me of my worth.

Could I think of anything besides writing that I could do to be of use? I shook my head. I get irritated by this question by now. Writing is the only thing I honestly care about. I don't WANT to do something else. I'm not GOOD at doing anything else. Besides. Seeing my shitty luck with writing, the one thing I sometimes think I AM good at, what makes anyone think I'd stand a chance at something I DON'T think I'm good at...?

Picking up litter alongside a road? That's honestly the only other thing I might be good at. And even that, I wouldn't be able to do because you have to walk around in broad daylight with cars streaming past you and they can all see you...I couldn't do that. I can't even check the mail when someone's walking down the road.

And picking up litter, while useful, doesn't earn you any attention...

Do I feel that I do anything that helps or matters to anyone? I shook my head. My parents? No. Animals or pets? No. I have a cat, don't I care for him? Yes. Doesn't that matter? "If I didn't do it then somebody else would." Am I so sure? I nodded. Because there are so many cats out there that don't even get a chance at life, because no one will take care of them. I didn't say anything. While it's nice and noble to take in a cat, somebody else would have definitely taken him in if we hadn't. He was a kitten, they always get adopted around here.

I didn't bother mentioning the porch animals. If I didn't feed them then someone else would.

Did I feel less worthless, and feel better, whenever I posted things like my writing or my photos online? Not much anymore, I said. I honestly do love the comments people send along...but that feeling only seems to last as long as people are commenting. The silences are much longer and more frequent. And I always wonder if they really mean it when they tell me I'm talented. I keep thinking of all the people who said they'd be back, and wondering what it was that I did so wrong, how I got so dull and lost their interest. I must've done something. That feeling persists a lot longer.

I was crying a lot in the session by this time and she asked why this was so. How did I feel right now? I said, "Pointless," but a phone interrupted and when she was finished she thought I'd said "Worthless." Same difference, so I didn't correct it. Do you know what? The interruption didn't even bother me, that's how pointless I felt.

She asked the one question which makes sense out of all of it, though I have no answer for it. She asked what I might do that would make me feel not so worthless, what I could do to change that feeling. That's honestly the only thing that I think could help me at all, if I could change the way I feel, because nothing anybody around me says or does will ever seem to be enough. I just don't believe in people's assurances anymore because I've heard SO MANY that turned out to not be true. Hence my wish that I could just not care what others think anymore, and rely only on myself. I just want to believe in myself again. That's the only thing that would even remotely help me.

But the problem is..."I don't think anything I do could change that by now," I said, and it's true. I know what it is I need, but not how to get it, and I've failed so many times at so many things that I just don't have that faith anymore.

I just realized: What I need to feel better about myself is self-confidence. But I need to feel better about myself before I can have self-confidence. Do you see what the problem is? The very thing I need is the one thing I just can't ever seem to have enough of.

When I kept crying and she kept questioning I at last brought up again how I hated wasting her time, and I was never going to do anything to get better. Did I really mean that? I nodded. I've been seeing her since May and haven't done a single thing or taken a single step to improve. And, not being whiny but just being honest, I don't imagine myself doing anything in the future. I'm simply too scared, and too disappointed. I used to take small steps in the past. Every one failed. None of them did a thing to make me feel any better, and in fact, most of them ended up making me feel even worse. It might not seem like it, but every single time I post a bit of my writing online, or reply to an e-mail, those are steps to me, things which I find difficult and am always afraid of messing up. Even posting in here, I find frightening. You might think I'd be used to doing such things by now but I'm still afraid of failure every time. I don't mention this to her though because she's a psychologist, and the emphasis is on gradually doing things more and more difficult, not the same thing every time. But when you fail at the same thing every time how can you step up to something more difficult? You can't take the second step when you keep tripping over the first one.

I've tripped over the first step so many times that I'm not only scared of the first step, but terrified of the second step and anything that comes after. So in effect, when she tells me to "challenge myself," it feels like telling a newborn to walk. I can't walk when I haven't learned how to crawl yet. I can't help it that all my attempts at crawling have messed up so far. Can I be blamed for being too scared now to do much more than that?

I didn't say all this to her though. I felt frustrated that any of this even came up, because I feel like I've brought this up a hundred times before, and either it just isn't getting through, or she hasn't had time to read about it, and either way, I'm tired of going over the same point over and over. If people can't understand it then they never will. That's the point when I just stop talking altogether, and that's the point I'm just about at right now.

When I mentioned how I was wasting her time and not getting anything done she took that as a sign that I wanted to just quit and actually said, "I wonder how much you really want this." That of course made me feel even worse. Just because someone is too afraid to take the next step doesn't mean they DON'T WANT to feel better. Is it so hard for the world to believe that, for some people, there ARE certain things that scare them so much that they just can't overcome them? Why is it that if you're too scared to do something, people assume "You must not want it enough"? How come an excess of fear must rule out how badly we must want something? Why can't people believe that some of us honestly are that paralyzed?

This comment made me want to talk even less so I just sat there and cried. Same old story.

She asked if there was anything I myself wanted to talk about and I said I couldn't think of anything. She said she finds this hard to believe, what with how much I write--"There's a lot going on in your mind." I shrugged. I couldn't think of anything. I said at last that I couldn't give her long answers. Why not? Because I don't want to bore people off. Am I afraid of being rejected? I nodded. What is rejection like? When people get bored of me or run out of time. Well, it was obvious time was an issue, but she didn't mind if I talked. I just sat there. I really did have so much to say, she commented, it was right here in the journal entries. I just sat there. Well, I could write about it, so why couldn't I talk about it? For example, could I talk about what I'd written about God?

I just cried harder. I did NOT want to talk about that; I thought she'd forgotten about it, in truth. Was that a subject that made me feel uncomfortable? I nodded. Well, was there anything else I wished to talk about? I couldn't think of anything. I just sat and cried and said nothing. In my head a voice kept saying What's the use.

Did I ever talk a lot to my parents? Not about the things that are important to me.

Well, we should find something else to talk about. Could I talk about my childhood?

I didn't say anything. It was my childhood; there isn't really anything to say.

Could I talk about school?

I didn't say anything. It was school; there isn't really anything to say.

She prompted on that one a bit. Was there anything I liked about school? I couldn't think of anything to say. What subjects did I like? I liked writing and drawing. What didn't I like? Math. But when she tried to ask for more general answers, again, I couldn't think of anything.

Did I have any friends back then? I nodded. Could I tell her about them?

I didn't say anything. They were friends; there isn't really anything to say.

Could I pick one and tell her about them? What we'd talk about, what we'd do together?

Mya of course was who came to mind but I felt too stupid going on at any length about somebody who's completely out of my life, and it would necessitate a long answer, which I couldn't give. So I said nothing.

She must have been getting pretty frustrated and I don't blame her. We were running low on time. She brought up that we'd had fourteen appointments so far and I had ten left. After that came a review when I could decide whether or not to continue, "if you feel this is doing any good, or if you should choose to stop." This made me feel lousy again, but it's only what's expected. So I just nodded and got my appointment card and that was it. I washed my face off in the bathroom sink because I had to get another ID picture taken, the end.

I'm more depressed and frustrated than usual because this brings up why I never wanted to go into therapy in the first place. It forces my hand: Face your fear and get over it, or just give up. And I'm not ready to do EITHER. She kept pressing at me if I wanted to quit the therapy, and I feel cornered, almost like a man being asked, "So did you stop beating your wife?" I didn't want to go into therapy in the first place--but neither do I want to quit. I can't just come out and say, "I quit," "I give up," or "I'm not coming in anymore," because that would be the final straw--I would give up on her, she would give up on me, I would give up on the world. It would be the end of everything, the ultimate proof that I'm worthless and that's final. But on the other hand, I can't say that I'll take steps to improve because I'm just too scared and honestly, by now, I don't think I CAN improve. So...I don't want to give up, but at the same time, I don't think I can move forward. I'm stuck in limbo and I have no idea what to do. And now I'm in a position where I have to either make a choice to quit or take a step I'm not ready to take, or keep wasting her time, and either way, I'll end up feeling like shit.

What is somebody supposed to do in a situation like that? I'm even considering not even giving her this entry, for all the good my entries have been doing. I'm just tired of trying to explain myself, of going over the same things again and again. It's just not worth talking anymore. It's the reason why I don't give long answers, why I try not to write long e-mails, why I don't hold conversations with people anymore. I'm tired of making the same point and of wasting people's time. Even when I got in the car and Ma asked why I was crying, and I told her of how Psychologist asks questions and all I can do is not answer, she kept saying, "Just tell her this! Just tell her that! Just say it!"...and I just shut up again. I've already gone over a million times why I can't "just speak up" anymore, and the point is passing over everyone's heads, so I don't feel like going over it yet again. If people won't get it now why I just can't talk to others, then they never will.

And that's why I just feel like sitting and crying rather than trying to explain anything in words. Take a look how my repeated efforts in writing have gone--they don't seem to have clarified anything. Why think that my spoken words would do any good?

So I don't see the point in giving her this entry, or in talking to her in sessions or anything. But I also can't tell her I quit, or I want to take a step that I'm not ready to take. So I feel incredibly lousy right now and don't know what to do. -_-

...I've calmed myself down a little since typing this up and am wondering if I should just try to summarize some of this in shorter form and give that to her as a personal letter instead of a journal entry, because I think my entries are just too much info for somebody with such limited time to wallow through. But I still find myself thinking it would be a waste of time. I alternate between wanting to calm down and try something else, and wanting to tear my hair out and scream, and wanting to just cry.