Apr 29
Therapy this week. The last one. Allegedly.
On Monday I was pretty zen with this decision. It really has settled out for me as a definite point to stop therapy because I feel like I've explored a lot of what's going on in this space with a years worth of constructive effort and it has given me a good sense of what works for me and what doesn't.
I gave the therapist that high level kind of summary. Enough information I thought to give a bit of context to my decision. But. The therapist wanted details. Ok. I felt this was at the very least as much about the therapist as it was about me. I am zen with it. You are perhaps not. Which is ok. The therapist is human too. Albeit we get into the rather slippery space here of this supposedly being all about me and not about them. In practice. It's not as neat as that. And I feel there are some unresolved tensions in there, not wanting to be something, and also wanting to be something. Pick a lane. Stick to it. But. People. It doesn't work like that. This is not a criticism of the therapist in the singular as more of a soft criticism of the entire space. Anyway.
I went into a more thorough breakdown.
The whole process - useful. It has provided information I wouldn't otherwise have. Also. Even the most terrible of things can also almost always provide useful information. Information is nothing to do with outcome of being useful or unuseful, negative or positive. Terrible things can be a good indicator of what to avoid. Or give you indications of what someone is like. But. For therapy. This is overall a neutral outcome here. It gives me concrete information about what is and isn't possible for me. Which leads us to -
The usual therapy axis of helping people understand themselves, behaviour, and insight into the world and approaches. Is useless to me. Because I know all this. That's a me thing. Therapy here, and moreover, an understanding of at least some elements of philosophy and psychology can be tremendously useful. Your typical punter doesn't come in with a tall order of therapy and psych knowledge. And so being introduced to that tailored to your own issues and lead on a 1 on 1 basis is great. On this axis therapy is a non event for me. I know it. I know it very well. Including over the edges of the map. And. Part of my particular setup, I have a very keen inner observer and awareness of what's going on with me at any point.
I went into therapy knowing this was very likely the case. But. Test it. And sure. There is nothing for me to learn here.
Having various intellectual deliberations "validated". Useful. Effectively over the course of a year I have been able to have a trained professional mark my homework - my understanding of psychology, therapy, applied to myself, to others around me, and the question posed, is that right ? Am I mistaken ? Delusional ? Nuts. No. My working out is solid. Ok. Good to know. And whilst it could be that both me and the therapist are at this point mistaken. It's increasingly unlikely that's the case. It's an outside perspective of me that validates stuff. I am not getting it wrong. Great. But also. We're done with that. The bulk of the background work is done. There are only small diminishing benefits to this going forward because its been covered already.
Being "seen". Useful. And. I pondered this is useful to almost *everyone* regardless. And to me specifically probably more useful than to most. Having someone understand where you are. Without having to argue it. Without having to endure misconceptions, or "helpful" ignorance where you then have to sit down and do the reverse - provide help to them to bring them up to speed, educate them, show them things they haven't seen or have no context of. So. Being seen. Without bias. Without immediately triggering someone elses defensive reaction to say me too, or I have it worse, or whatever pile on you get.
There is little to no friction there with the therapist. There is a space. Where suffering can be acknowledged, understood as a bad thing. Without any baggage. This is no mean thing.
That. Is. And remains. Useful.
And that's the sum of it. The usual therapy line was never going to do anything for me because I already have the T shirt. The validation line - unusual because few people have that already constructed understanding, this is the key difference between I need to be taught this, and, I already know this, can you just check I have it right - is useful, but then tails off as you complete your auditing. And finally just being seen. Which is something I didn't entirely appreciate going into it. I failed to understand how useful and important that final bit was. So. I learned that. It also allowed me to much more cleanly define friction. To see invalidations. I was already very aware of this. But now. I have a better appreciation of the depth of consequences that has. Again. Heh. Not that I didn't know this was a Bad Thing. I think. I just have a better appreciation of the flip side of the coin. The benefit of when that actually functions well. Something. I have very limited experience of.
The therapist said it sounded like a list of reasons to continue.
Ok.
That's. An interesting summary.
I didn't agree with them. I didn't reject what they said. I just, didn't agree. Err. Mmm. I acknowledged that some aspects of it were useful, but it wasn't a binary on or off. It was a case of how useful was something. Does it reach a threshold of being worthwhile. You can empty the ocean with a teaspoon and reduce flooding. But is that a worthwhile method to go about it. How much does it help. Are there alternatives.
That's the space it sits in.
The therapist quickly moved onto wondering whether the payment issue the other week was the reason for the sudden quit.
No.
I pointed out that in that session we had talked about stopping. That it was once again on my mind, and that it felt like it had reached a stopping point. I opened that session asking the therapist what they thought we were achieving. A proper kick of the tyres. Is this justified at this point ? Not wanting to waste their time. My time. Whether it was a good use of time just to turn up and "talk about the TV you watched this week" at the most extreme end of the spectrum.
So no. It's not like this came out of the blue. It was the topic of discussion the last time.
The therapist persisted.
Hard.
In a different venue. I would absolutely take this as high insecurity. Which there is nothing wrong with. It's ok to be insecure about how something was interpreted. I don't view that as a problem or flaw. It is very understandable. To be clear. I am not saying the therapist was insecure here. Just that. If it wasn't a therapeutic setting. This is exactly what I would read this as. In a therapeutic environment. You could read this instead as a... thorough... probing of motivations.
In the messy space of humans. It would not be beyond the scope of wild imagination for that clean line to be a little... fuzzy. A little insecurity with your therapy.
Was I angry with the therapist ?
No. I sat there zen with them.
Disappointed ?
No. Zen cow.
We went through a number of similar sounding things. Basically. Where was my upset. Was there an upset.
I get what they were reaching for. In the end they said, but it was a negative thing.
Oh yes. It certainly wasn't a strengthening of relationship. Definitely. Weakening. It didn't help I said with the consideration of whether to stop therapy. It was, one coin of many thrown into the fountain.
The therapist kept digging.
In the end I stripped it down entirely. You chose financial over emotional I said. Before, with my parents, you asked if the roles were switched, and I Was them, would I have done the things they had to me. Absolutely not. Never. Ever. Their decisions would not be my decisions. I've always known that. And here I said. If we switched roles. The decision you made. Would not be my decision. Ever. Different.
I reassured the therapist. Repeatedly. You did nothing wrong. You are within your rights. It is fine. That's not the reason I am stopping therapy.
I said. If you are looking for something to properly criticise, then you could be accused of having epically bad timing. I explain to you that I dislike contractual obligations and pieces of paper telling people how to behave. Sometimes monstrously to each other. Because its within their rights. And right after that. You pull a contractual obligation bit. It's. Comedically bad.
The therapist took that one on the chin. I can see that's not good timing they admitted.
Yeah. Unfortunate. I laughed.
We had a rupture the therapist said. Can we repair this.
I sighed heavily and looked at the ceiling. I closed my eyes and said, if I can be an asshole...
.. sure said the therapist.
I know what you are going to say. I know how you are going to react. Days. Weeks out. I can see exactly how you are thinking and what your moves are.
I scrunched up my face.
It's. Horrible.
I'm horrible the therapist asked ?
No. No. Not you. The process. The fact I already know all this. The fact I know what you are going to say. How you are going to react. It is... I struggled to find the right words. There is a disgust to it.
I am disgusting ?
No ! You are fine. It's not about you. It's the ... exasperation. At knowing. The horror. At being able to predict people down to the tiniest degree. Watching it play out having already seen it play out. Like being trapped in a recording.
And that's a horrible thing ?
Yes. There is. An awfulness to it. On the one hand I said, there is a utility to it. Well. That's useful. Being able to see how things work out. What happens. Predicting the future. And eh. Yeah. Sure. Sort of. But...
I trailed off.
You know. I think what it is is this. It's that. It feeds a signal back to me that the models I have running, my understanding, comprehension, reading of people and situations. Is good. Accurate. Scarily good. Stupidly accurate. And there is a sting in that tail. Because it means. All the things I see. The shit. The awfulness. The nihilstic horrors. Are not wrong. It is I said, feedback that the measuring stick I have is accurate. And that what I've measured with it, then in turn, is accurate. And that. Is horrifying. No hope.
We didn't get to talk about the "rupture repair".
The therapist, clearly still convinced that I was stopping therapy because of a rupture asked if this was a pattern I had. That when I was "rejected", I would simply nope out. Step away. Cut off contact.
Rejected ? Ok.
Again. I could see what they were thinking. I sat and patiently waited for them to finish. My answer was already there. It was funny. I closed my eyes and sighed.
It's funny I said. If you could see the reality ( and arguably the therapist should have been able to spot this from previous interactions.. but.. eh ). Listen. There are plenty of times when in the moment, I am human, all I want to do is flip over the table. Walk away. Fuck it. Leave me alone. Go away. I want nothing to do with it.
However I said. The overwhelming reality of my existence is the opposite. To a fault. I will endure. Endlessly. If you want a shining example, of which there are many. Take my borderline personality disorder friend. There is an enormous catalogue there of transgressions. Any one of which would - very reasonably - cause a break in relationship. Physical abuse. Psychological abuse. At one end of the scale. But countless examples of liberties taken. Asshole behaviour. Some of it. Is the expectation of such a person. They are. To be blunt. Assholes. And in their case. They also lean into that. Assholes. Just because. They have become accustomed to behaving badly and getting things from it. And yet. Here I am. Still with a relationship with them.
So no. I don't cut and run. As much as sometimes in the moment, I want to.
I know what you're angling at. And it's not that.
I then tried relating it back to a bigger picture, because, the therapist was having real trouble disconnecting from the whole Is This Something I've Done angle, and Do You Run Away When Problems Happen. I said that since February there had been that "defeated tone" in me. Something had clicked over into resolution. Part of that is therapy I said. In a way this has been the final nail in the coffin. It has shown me I am not nuts. Or delusional. Or feeling sorry for myself. It is what it is. It's shit. There are no simple escapes. And the process itself goes about proving it. It squashes any room for an unseen hopeful exit. It confirms what I highly suspected was already true. And a sense of defeat. An end. Naturally falls out of that.
Since Feb.
And here we are. At an end. It's the same progression. Slowly distilling in me over the course of weeks. Oh. I am done.
I am sorry that it has been that way for you the therapist said.
It's not about sorry I said. It is what it is. There is no happy assumption that at the end of it it all makes sense, everything is peace and light, heres the solution, wonderful. What it has done for me has just eliminated a lot of the last dregs of doubt.
Therapy isn't about the world having a happy ending. It's about learning how to cope better with it.
Sure I get it I said. But there's another meta here. The place I am. There is no "better coping with it". There is no existentialist nonsense that shifts focus to some invented value you have. There is no small patterns that fix it.
This week I said I had found one of my usual things. Someone talking about something in times past that I had found out myself. A bit of delight. Oh. Look. Someone else already figured that out ! In this case. It was a Norwegian philosopher Peter Wessel Zapffe who posited that humankind had outgrown its evolutionary usefulness. It had become a liability to itself. He gave the simple example ( of which there are many many many throughout history ) of the Irish Elk. An elk of massive stature that had evolved to have the biggest rack, the most dominant physicality. Beating all rivals. But. Its antlers had become so large and unwieldy. Its stature so massive. That it started to run counter to survival. Stuck in trees. Undergrowth. Unable to outpace predators. And it died out. Evolution. Had overshot. Taken something that was a boon. Evolved it to a point where it was a flaw. And the lifeform had died out. Zapffe then related this back to humanity. Our intellectual side. Our brains. Evolved to solve problems. Figure out where tigers are hiding. How to get coconuts out of trees. And eventually. Overshooting. Considering the universe at large. Our nihilist position within it. Existential angst. Reduced to psychological goo. Dysfunctional.
This is not only plausible. But an essential part of evolution.
His eventual conclusion on this was that suicide is then a rational response to basically being fucked.
And so. Back to me.
Here I am. Outlier on this axis. Outlier on that axis. Unusual. Pushed into high performance corners.
And overshot.
This I Said is what I always bang on about. About intelligence. Education. Being useful up to a point. Beyond that point it starts to become detrimental.
The antlers that are useful become a liability.
And this is part of the problem of coming up with a "cope".
The argument then becomes. How bad is it. How much can you endure. Is there a way out you haven't seen. The answers to which have been explored at length. Which is the point.
We talked a little about small wins. I said that at best you could explore to that "calm green space". Effectively I said eject the higher brain. Turn it off. Dump it. Go back to some lower level of just existing in green spaces. With trickling streams. And leaves rustling in the wind.
But you cannot live there. It's at best a temporary reprieve.
Anyway.
The therapist then said that usually the ending of therapy was worked out over four sessions.
Four !
Mmmm k. Four sounds like. A lot.
I said I was zen with it. Done. And that I am happy to defer judgement to the therapist. That's fine. A closure. But that it would be mostly about them and not me.
Don't think about me the therapist said. It's just you.
Well in that case I said. I'm done. I'm good. We can end it. I am zen with it.
Ok, but, also consider the relationship and what benefit you might get out of a closure process.
I smiled.
Having your cake and eating it. It's not this. But it's also this. It's not about me. But it's also about me.
I sat with it for a few seconds. It's just about me here. Don't consider the therapist. Ok. Cool. And in the next breath. Consider the relationship. Ok. Well. You've just inserted yourself back into the equation again haven't you. Sleight of hand.
This. Is part of the tension. That. Unresolved unclear just what line is it that you think you're holding because, believe me, you are absolutely not resolved. You can either have an entirely me focused relationship. It's not about the therapist. It's not about being human. Except. When it is. Literally. Context dependent hypocrisy. Which is fine. It's human. What it isn't is zen fully grounded theoretical therapist standing point however. It's. Wishful thinking. With a narrative weave. A rationalisation of where it's ok to stick to it, and when to not stick to it, and that's ok, but, don't look too hard, and don't question it, and here are my defences. The usual human bullshit in other words.
Anyway.
Consider the relationship.
Heh.
Well I said. In that case. That's different. Let's not end it today then.
Without arguing about it, I took it as this -
I am absolutely fine with ending it now.
The therapist is absolutely not fine with ending it now.
The therapist moved to reassure me they were fine with ending it now.
Ha ha.
If I wanted to. We could it end. That would be ok. If I wanted to.
Uh huh.
Also. The usual human bullshit.
I don't want this. But I'm going to offer it. And pitch it. In a way that doesnt say that. But poses it defensively.
Point in case.
If someone is absolutely fine with something.
They wont pose it defensively, if you want, we could, if you like.
They would say.
Let's do that.
No prevaricating or dancing.
It is part of the subtle human social signalling of saying one thing without saying a thing, and being able to deny ever having meant that in the first place.
Human horseshit at one level.
At another level. This is the normal operating conditions of the hairless apes running around on this mudball.
Ok I said.
You're going on holiday for 2 weeks in 2 weeks.
It seems to me then that logistically speaking, we should do 2 weeks. And then we're done. Otherwise. We have to split it over your 2 week holiday. Which seems not great. It's either that. Or we finish now. Or put it off until after you return from holiday. But. 2 weeks and done seems reasonable to me.
I was aware however, that I am not the one who seems to want a) a longer closure and b) that closure to be 4 weeks long. So I couched it.
If you are ok with that. 2 weeks.
The therapist dithered a little. Hedged. Maybe one week only. Maybe two. Or see how we go.
Uh huh.
In other words.
Not comfortable with two. But trying hard to show accomodation for any configuration.
Because it's all about me.
Ha ha.
Sure.
No one else in the room.
We also had an odd interaction.
I pointed out the tension in the therapist. I didn't leave that observation unspoken. I said there was a tension in them between the don't get too close, but also, don't be distant. Both wanting and not wanting a certain level of relationship. I noted that the previous week she had said that old school therapy where the patient cannot see the therapist at all, was the most distant of all. Precisely to avoid any kind of attachment of relationship. Disembodied voice. In the air. And how a more modern approach had shifted away from that to a more personable one. But still. Boundaries. And lines. We had discussed his before.
Early on in our conversations, just by turn of phrase I had noted our conversation pitched them more at the houseplant in the room level. To which they took genuine harm. They were sad. That I thought that of them. No connection. I saw you react to that I said. A tension. And then I reassured you. That you were not a houseplant. Worthwhile. Caring. etc.
You reassured me the therapist said.
Yes.
And why did you do that ?
I smiled. This was one of those weird places where the therapist at times decides to question something that is - I think - some very basic tenet of being human. Absurd.
Because I care I said. Because I care that people don't suffer harm. That they don't feel bad. I think - I said. That's human ? Giving a shit ?
So you cared the therapist asked.
Yes.
Ok they said. I am just checking.
...
The final ultimate comedic irony for this week. I had cancelled last week because of my contractor induced emergency.
So contractually the therapist started -
I sighed -
you don't have to pay for a session if it's an emergency.
Ok. Forget about it I said.
No said the therapist. You didn't need to pay for that. Contractually.
I closed my eyes and sighed again.
The thing is here.
I don't give a shit. I am in a fortunate position ( not at random because I have earned it ) where I don't have to fret about small sums of money. The equation then becomes for me. How much do I care for a trivial sum of money. Versus the faff of asking for account details, and confirmations, and further chatter about did you get it, yes, thanks, ok, social dance bullshit.
And the answer is.
Leave me alone.
I will pay you fucking money to leave me alone.
So when I say. Forget about it.
It's two fold.
One. It's ok. Take the money. Maybe you have a good use for it.
Two. Please don't bother me. I value my time, energy and peace far more than a trivial sum of money.
But anyway.
It was another beautiful ironic flourish.
From one frame.
The other week the therapist chose financial rather than emotional. Materialistic rather than generous.
And in a back to back same environmental setup. I had demonstrated my alignment. The opposite.
Which just serves to underline the point. Accidentally serving as a very stark contrast. The chances of that falling out like that are... implausible. But it did. And it serves as fate playing jokes with you.
I did say at one point in the session that it gave me a nudge. Her choice. Of financial over emotional. A nudge into this relationship is financial. And less about the emotional. Despite what the therapist is keen to emphasise. And that you. Are not in a space that I would choose. Different.
Anyway.
That was therapy.
Yesterday I had a bit of energy. The all over pains had dialled down slightly. I got away without using any painkillers yesterday. Not good. Painful. But. I managed without painkiller support.
And I had some energy. To do stuff. I looked at my ceiling in the kitchen. I need to stick a quick bit of paint up there.
Who has my painting stuff.
Who else.
Who has my laptop. My painting gear. My sewing machine. My sewing gear.
Only one person taking that much of a liberty.
I pinged Hazel. Do you still have my painting gear ? ( I know what shes like. lazy. liable to throw shit out rather than clean it ). She did still have some of my painting gear. The nice roller however was gone. Because. She was lazy. And didn't clean it.
Sigh.
So I went to pick up my painting stuff. And. I Don't know what's wrong with me. I must be a fucking idiot. As I was there. And feeling a bit better. I asked if she wanted to just go out for a drink.
She ended up wanting dinner. At her favourite burger place. Despite saying she had been in torment with her stomach.
But her lack of self control won out ( when doesn't it ). And so we went for dinner instead.
Which was nice.
But by the end of the evening. She was being an argumentative contrary asshole.
Awful.
She annoyed me no fucking end. On. And fucking on.
And. Salt in the wound.
I had come to terms with just letting her keep the laptop.
Only to finally reveal she would need it until mid June.
Mid fucking June. Since the start of Feb.
This is her all over. Give an inch. Take a fucking mile.
Also added grist to the mill. She had just got done telling me she might only be at her parents for a week or two. So would be back in May - maybe.
But in terms of laptops. A very firm mid June. IE. Going to fucking grab all she can.
I know why.
She likes using the laptop at home. Along with her desktop PC. And tablet. And kindle. Because of course.
And she's currently unhappy at her desktop PC only having 8GB of ram. The laptop has 32GB I think.
It's a gaming laptop. Better than her setup.
So of course. She likes having it.
But shes sneaky. And manipulative. And maxisming. She doesn't offer. She doesn't apologise. She doesn't reflect on her behaviour. She takes. And evades. And then makes it your problem.
I exclaimed when she said second week of June. She gave her bullshit excuse.
And then.
You can have it if you want it.
Sure.
Another fucking couched statement. Another fucking faffed about, well, you know, you could, if you really need it, and want to deprive me, and yada blah.
Same fucking dance as the therapist.
The fucking social dance. Couched. Saying one thing. Wanting the other.
Keep it I said. Grinding my teeth.
She offered again. Like some fucking salve. If you want to give it back. Then give it back. Don't fucking bargain with me. Don't turn it into emotional theatre. Manipulative bullshit.
I told her to keep it again.
It is "fine".
Fine as in. In the long term it is inconsequential.
I learn a lesson. Again. But really. This is the final fucking time. I must be an idiot.
I will let Hazel borrow the laptop as long as she needs it.
Then recover it.
And not offer it again.
That door. Has closed.
And the reasons should be very fucking clear why.
I Drove away from Hazel absoutely pissed off.
My recent slow return of patience completely wiped out again.
No shit.
Not the first time I have driven away from Hazel having had her do a number on me.
But then again.
It is somewhat the nature of the beast. Long story short. She is a clinically diagnosed asshole. With a generous sprinkling of just behaviourally leaned into also being an asshole. Too many manipulations. Too many fights. Too many liberties taken. Too much playing the victim.
Here's an interesting summary of someone that habitually plays the victim :
This is Hazel to a tee. Along with other spicy sprinklings.
But. We know this. She is, and remains, the most crazy "but still sort of functional" person I know. Only the truly left the planet people in a nuthouse I have known are worse.
Comments
Post a Comment