Happy cats make for happy homes

adolescence Alabama beliefs blogging calm change Chicago crisis crushes dreams family fear flint hills food friends happiness health being a hippie holiday home internship kids loss love magic memories money music parties perfection plants projects relationships relaxation reminiscing ritual school social work issues spirits sports stress style the South violence weather weather worries writing



Go now. Go.

There’s something about Sunday night
that really makes you want to kill yourself
Subscribe to this blog
for e-mail updates

Tuesday, May 24, 2005


I finally got to see the psychologist today. Finally.

At first I didn't know what to think, because she was young, and perky, and all Junior League. I generally prefer my therapists to be older. It makes me assume they've had a lot of experience. Plus, I did once see a social worker who seemed to be fresh out of school, and she just wasn't good.

But this one knows her stuff. At first, we talked about how I could feel more comfortable here, so it was really her coming up with extra-curricular ideas of things I could do (which is how I found out she was in Junior League and thinks I'd be good for it, too).

She was surprised--a reaction I don't understand yet get from a lot of people--when I told her I had difficulty making friends. She said that she enjoyed our conversation more than most therapy sessions, and figured I'd be a gentle presence for one-on-one interactions. (She seemed to say all this in a genuine way, not a creepy "I'm a therapist having trouble defining my boundaries" kind of way.) And I suppose she's a good judge of character, so she's got to be right--I just don't have the self-esteem right now actually act like that in my (nonexistent) personal relationships here. (At least my clients should be basking in my gentle calmness, I guess.)

On the other hand, she seemed to base some of those assumptions on our interactions, and talked a lot about the risk involved in making connections with other people, and I had to stop her and say, "but this isn't how I am with most people. Opening up to you is absolutely no risk for me." (I suppose that's actually unusual. Maybe therapy is hard for some people to get into. But I am so used to it, and believe so much in it, that I only need a little while to get comfortable with new therapists. It is terribly easy for me.)

Then we also delved into history, and she detected intimacy issues. It almost seems flip to say that, and to think she's just spouting psychobabble without really knowing me, but . . . I've been in enough therapy to not take every single word a counselor says as gospel. I think there's something to it, and I'm interested to see how she wants to explore it. If working through my intimacy issues helps me make friends more easily, I am all for it.


Blogger cilee said...

Hi. I just wanted to acknowledge your words. I admire you for trying to work this out for yourself.

8:52 PM  
Blogger metrogeekboy said...

Sorry I haven't been by in awhile. I'm trying to survive in my own little southern sphere.

You're really one cool human being L. You know, regardless of what issues you might have lingering around, good friends are just hard to make. By the time we hit adulthood, we're all full of worries, fears and our own selfish quests. Makes it hard to break through to the core of philia and love each other.

11:18 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger.
Get awesome blog templates like this one from BlogSkins.com