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Tuesday, August 15, 2006


cmce left a comment asking:

have you gone to a therapist yet? As much as I sometimes dread the old theraparista, it has helped.

I've tried therapy twice.

I first went to therapy when I was ten years old. It was family therapy, and we went shortly after my brother's attempted suicide. I though the entire experience was a farce. The therapist had this glitter baton that he'd pass around and whoever had it was allowed to speak. I remember looking at my father and the incredulous look on his face. If we're as much alike as I've always thought we were, he probably felt as patronized as I did. When I was handed the baton, I told the therapist that I thought this was a stupid idea and that I should be able to speak my mind without the aid of a twirly stick.

We never saw the baton again.

My second experience was during high school. I was a sophomore, and my parents were in the midst of their seperation. I went because I thought I'd like to talk with someone who had an unbiased view on my family. I only stayed for a few sessions; I enjoyed having her to talk to, but I never returned home feeling any better about the situation.

I don't doubt that therapy is anything less than helpful, but what both my experiences have told me is that it's not helpful enough for me.

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