02-21-07 @ 1:53 pm EST

Would've typed this up this morning, but was tired and didn't have the time, and don't feel like typing it up now, but if I don't I never will, so...

The latest psychologist appointment. While Ma and I waited in the waiting room there was this VERY chatty lady who told Ma she'd just moved here from California and she wasn't sure what the therapists were like, she was getting used to winter here, etc. etc., and all I could keep thinking is, what is this woman's problem? She didn't seem anxious, didn't seem depressed. Unless she was bipolar and having an "up" episode I was absolutely mystified as to why she was there. I guess it's hard for me to comprehend other people's mental illnesses unless they're in terms of the way I act when I'm not doing too well. I see a cheery talkative person and they seem just fine to me. But that's only comparing them to myself.

Psychologist refuses to get in front of me and lead me to her office, which bothers me, because I like following people rather than leading, and I can never remember where her office is even if it is the first door on the right. I always hesitate in the hallway, waiting for her to get ahead of me, but she always gestures me ahead so I have to go. >_< I hate leading people, especially when they're in charge. But I'm perfectly happy with following. It's like, even when I KNOW where I'm going, I just don't have the confidence to think that I'm right.

Anyway, she opened by saying that she'd read part of my chapter but not all of it (the cynical part of my brain kicked in just then) and said it reminded her somewhat of Tolkien and Middle Earth, was it meant to be something like that? I mentally gagged (I'm nothing like Tolkien!) but shrugged, because in truth, I've only read most of The Hobbit and couldn't really say. (Though I still don't think I'm anything like Tolkien. Orcs, wizards, elves, BLARGH.) She asked if I remembered what we'd gone over in the last session and I said, "A couple of things." When she asked what those were I mentioned how she'd wanted me to look up a step for a first-time author to get published, which I honestly forgot to do (I remembered it only the morning of the appointment, after I'd gotten offline -_- ); and she'd wanted me to look up Virginia Woolf. She corrected me to say that she'd actually wanted me to look up some troubled authors, writers who had to struggle, and Woolf was the only writer she could think of off the top of her head. Well, all I knew was she'd said the name Woolf, so I looked that up. That's another thing about me, if people don't give me specifics, I have no clue what to do. *shrug*

She asked if anything I'd read about Woolf had rung any bells, struck any chords, and I furrowed my brow and said, "Not really." Well, what had I learned? I learned that Woolf suffered from depression, but she seemed to have her own circle of friends, her own successes, her own published works and fans, etc. To me it didn't seem like she'd struggled THAT much. At least, not as far as getting fans or making friends was concerned. The only similarity I really saw was that she suffered from depression. Psychologist said that she couldn't remember what had made Woolf so popular, but she seemed to just "spew out" lots and lots of writing, like from a bottomless well, and she got the impression that's what I did too--I nodded when she asked that. "Was there anything at all from her bio that struck you?" Psychologist asked, and all I could think of was her suicide note. Psychologist admitted that she'd forgotten about that; what had it said?

"She pretty much said she felt worthless and she was sorry to be a burden on her family," I said.

"And is that how you feel, that you're worthless and you're a burden on your family?" Psychologist asked.

I nodded.

"How willing are you to change that? Are you willing to take the step toward not being a burden on your family?"

I didn't know what the step might entail, so I murmured, "I don't know."

"Are you willing to take the steps necessary to not feel worthless anymore?"

"I don't know," I said, staring at the floor.

"Well then," she said, "I'm really not sure what I can do to help you." My eyes welled up--surely she was getting ready to just kick me out, like the last psychologist did--and I pulled out my paper towel and started sniffling. "I'm not going to sit and listen to you come in and talk about how miserable you are," she said. She went on for quite a while in this vein...eventually my eyes pretty much dried up and I just sat there mutely staring at the floor and thinking, is she ever going to be done with this? Basically it was the same as what she said the first time I think, that if I'm not willing to take the steps necessary, then she won't continue to see me, because it's a waste of our time and she wouldn't be able to help me anyway. This went on for so long that it started niggling at me and I was getting kind of irritated, mentally. All I could think of was, I never CAME here to be fixed! Aside from my lack of belief in myself, and my overwhelming dependence on the affirmations of others, I'm basically content! And here are these therapists all trying to get me to make eye contact and seek publication and get out more and bla bla bla when I DON'T WANT TO DO ANY OF THAT ANYWAY AND I NEVER HAVE. (Well, publication would be nice, but let's be realistic.) I guess all that frustration just started bubbling up at last, because I'm sick and tired of being chastised about my unwillingness to change when the things that people think I want to change, I'M JUST FINE WITH. It's like being rebuked for something I never sought help for in the first place! And wouldn't that just be beyond insulting?

When she finally finished and asked me what it was exactly that I was there for and what I wanted to do ("It's time for the rubber to hit the road" or something like that, I had to have her explain it to me, *shrug*), there was a pause, then I said, still staring at the floor, "I just think there've been some misunderstandings regarding why I'm here, in therapy."

She nodded. "Uh-huh...?"

"See," I said, staring at the floor the entire time, fingers fiddling, "I'm applying for disability and I was turned down, so it's on appeal, and the lawyer told me to go into therapy to get a diagnosis because I don't have any records. So that's basically why I got into therapy. I didn't really expect to get better or anything."

"Uh-huh?"

"And I do feel like I'm a burden on my parents, but I'm trying to work on that. That's why I applied for disability, because I can't really work, so I thought maybe if I was accepted for that it wouldn't be so hard on them and I wouldn't feel so guilty. I started getting some money through the state, I can't remember what it's called, but it's about $260 a month, and it's not much, but I'm saving some of it up in case of emergencies, so if there's a bill or something that needs to be paid I can help with it."

"Uh-huh?"

"Not long ago our furnace broke down and I could have helped pay for part of that, but Dad wouldn't let me, but we had some other money at the time so we could take care of that. I have about $700 stashed away in case something else breaks down, and that's why I applied for the disability. I'm still pretty sure my parents are disappointed in me, but at least this way I can help out somehow and not be such a burden on them."

"Uh-huh?" She seemed genuinely surprised to hear all this.

"And with Old Psychologist, she wanted me to make eye contact, and have conversations and stuff, and the truth is I really don't want to get out and socialize a lot. I mean, even back when I had a friend, we'd pretty much just hang out at my house and talk and stuff. I realize I'm never going to be like normal people and have a job and such and I'm okay with that, I just want to find a way to believe in myself, so that I don't have to rely on others' affirmations all the time."

"Uh-huh?"

"You see, the last time when you brought up trying to look into getting published, that made me kind of anxious, because it ends up being the same thing--instead of seeking affirmations online, I'm seeking them in real life, and either way I'm relying on what OTHER people think of me, and I want to learn to stop doing that so much." She was really nodding and uh-huh'ing during this part, as if awed that I understood such a thing. "I mean, I'd still like to post my stuff online, and if somebody comments and likes it, that's nice, but if nobody does, oh well, who cares. It shouldn't bother me so much."

"That's true," she said. "It shouldn't."

"And it'd be nice to have a friend someday, but I really don't feel like going out and meeting people and such. See, before I went online, I didn't write very much, but I at least kind of believed in myself. Then when I went online, I found out I could share my stuff with all these people, and it seemed like such a great thing at first, until I found out how much people won't care. I've had a lot of bad experiences with friends and people just leaving me hanging, so it's really hard for me to trust other people as well as myself. It's hard for me to trust my own judgement because I've made a LOT of bad judgements about trusting other people in the past."

"Is this just online people, or offline too...?"

"Both."

She nodded. "So, let me see if I'm getting you clearly--you really don't want to be a social butterfly--you're just fine with being the way you are. You don't want to burden your parents, but you're already taking steps toward taking care of that." I nodded. "So that's not so much of a problem anymore. What you'd really like to do is stop relying on other people's opinions so much, and be able to say, 'Screw what they think, it doesn't matter to me.'"

I nodded. "I just want to believe in my own worth and not have to have a bunch of other people say it for me."

"Because as long as you're relying on other people, you're always going to be disappointed." She said this as if I wasn't aware of it, but I nodded, because I know it's true. Elsewhere in the session she seemed to have the mistaken idea that I must get a good deal of negative feedback on my writing, when the truth is I tend to get more NO feedback than NEGATIVE feedback--I'd say like 85-90%, at least, of the feedback I've gotten on my writing online has been positive, just not consistent--and she seemed to think that that was what was bothering me, rather than the LACK of feedback. But anyway, it's the same either way, just negativity in two different forms. I understood. As I've said in here before, it wouldn't matter if I had a hundred people consistently giving me positive feedback--by now I'm just so used to being left hanging, and to feeling like I'm worthless, that I can look at any positive comment and tell myself, "They don't really mean it, it's not that good, it's crap and so am I."

Oh yes, along those lines, she also mentioned how when people say negative things about what we do, we tend to take it more personally than we should--"Like say somebody says something criticizing about one of my children. I might start thinking, 'Are they saying that I'm a bad person because of this...?' Because what we create, what we engender, is a part of us, but it's not us. I get the feeling that it's much the same way with your writing--in a way your writing is something you gave birth to, and when people criticize it, it's easy to take that as a statement about YOU as a person, rather than as a statement about your writing itself." I nodded; I've said in here before that I tend to equate MY WRITING = MYSELF, so yes, I understood that too.

"I pretty much just wanted to get some records for the disability case because it's on appeal," I said, "and I didn't really expect to be cured or anything, but I thought, it'd be nice if I could at least get to believe in myself a bit again. But I don't know how."

Psychologist at last dropped her hands onto her lap and let out a sharp breath. She shook her head. "Rachel--THANK YOU for your honesty!" she exclaimed. "You've probably been more honest in the past ten to fifteen minutes than...let's see...it's Tuesday...so, than all my patients in the last week!" She leaned forward. "I get others in here, and it's pretty clear at least some of them are looking for disability, but there's all this guessing--" She threw up her hands. "Isn't it WONDERFUL when both people in a therapy session are so honest?? This makes everything so much easier! You see, now I know what wavelength you're on, and what you're looking for, and so I won't keep pushing you into doing something you really don't WANT to do. You say you're fine being at home and not being a social butterfly, and who is anyone else to judge you for that? If that works for you, then fine. Now that I know all this I won't keep trying to push you into these things that you're just not interested in. Now I feel like maybe we can get somewhere!"

I kept nodding, probably turning bright red. Well, I have no clue HOW we would get anywhere, but at least I finally let therapists know that I'm not INTERESTED in getting out more or making eye contact or whatnot! All I really want out of life is financial security for my family, a real friend or two, and belief in myself. All that other junk I can do without. Based on what I've experienced of social things, I'm better off without all that crap anyway. I'm CONTENT sitting at home, drawing pictures, writing stories, reading and browsing online. I just want to not feel so USELESS all the time. Anything else is just gravy.

"What's your lawyer's name--?" Psychologist asked, just as the phone rang, and I told her. She answered it and talked for a while before having to hang up and informed me that there was an emergency, so she was going to have to cut me short (not that it felt like it, maybe all that talking I did made it seem a lot longer), but she was glad that I'd been honest.

"Is this going to endanger my disability appeal...?" I asked tentatively, afraid that I'd said too much in being honest. Face it, saying that you went into therapy pretty much just because your lawyer said to doesn't sound that good. :(

"You know what..." She looked around a little. "That's what we were talking about right before we were interrupted. You said you're on appeal? Do they have a court date set yet? Is this something that could happen any day now, or could it take months and months...?"

"I have no idea," I admitted.

"Well," she said, "Rachel, no, this isn't going to endanger your appeal. Because I'm of the mind that there really are issues that would keep you from working. I want us to keep seeing each other, and I'm going to see you through this appeal."

My eyes welled up again and I started sniffling like an idiot. -_- But it did feel like such a relief to hear that. I was worried that my honesty was going to come back to bite me again (see my old entries regarding the Ojibwa group...ugh).

She then went over how we would schedule future appointments--"I'm not quite ready yet to move you to monthly appointments, so we'll meet once every two weeks for now, and then maybe spread it out later on." She would start to shorten the appointments to a half hour each, but if there was ever a time when I felt I really needed to get something off my chest, we could lengthen it to an hour--"Whatever works best for you. Does that sound good?" I nodded again, and she had to attend to her emergency, so that was pretty much it. I think we meet again on March 8 or something. I'm still leery about how future appointments might go, since I have no idea what to expect now.

I got a CC from Lawyer today in which he sent Old Psychologist's and Psychiatrist's evaluations to be taken into evidence and he scribbled on the sheet, "Does the state have all your medical records now?" or something like that. Sheesh, he didn't need to underline it like that, I have no clue why the state is being so uncooperative.

Speaking of disability, in Dianne's most recent letter to me, I think she herself was finally approved for it. At least I hope she was. She deserves it WAY more than I do because she has an actual physical problem, a bad one, and in truth I always wondered, if Dianne doesn't get disability, what the hell are MY chances?? Anyway, I hope it helps her out, she has more than enough problems to contend with.

And next door they seem to be cutting down trees left and right, and I have no idea why, and that's why I'm upset right now. -_- Why build a house in the middle of the frigging woods if you're going to CUT ALL THE WOODS DOWN?? This used to be a nice rural neighborhood; now we're surrounded by neighbors we don't even know, and I don't want to know them, I miss being able to go outside and actually NOT be seen by people all around our damn house. It seems a new house is going in around here every week. There's no more privacy and I feel terribly exposed and anxious just stepping out into our own yard. I love looking at those trees, I have a zillion pics of them at DA. How many must they kill already?? I prayed for their spirits or whatever they might have to be able to take refuge elsewhere rather than just die or fade away, maybe in my little pine tree or in my 10,000-year-old rock, but I don't know if that would work, surely a maple spirit would need to go into another maple, and if a maple already has a spirit in it would another one even fit? I don't know how these things work. I just wish they'd stop cutting down trees and leave things alone. This makes me very upset. -_-