After living with myself for so long, I have to say I applaud the efforts of any professional counselor who has ever drawn the short straw and won the prize of seeing my butt sitting in their office. Well, mostly me and not so much my butt, since that kind of exposure would put the actual therapist in therapy. It’s kind of like viewing a solar eclipse - you don’t want to look directly at it. Several qualities I possess make me a less than ideal client for a therapist.
Trying to repair my wounded soul is like dumping a 500 piece jigsaw puzzle on the table and putting it all together while wearing gloves and a blindfold. I should probably add “and at gunpoint” since I have no patience whatsoever with most things in life. Since consistent efforts over a period of time are usually a requirement for healing wounds and changing one’s outlook, therapy is an unattractive option for me. Funny that I have a similar approach when it comes to dieting. Surely I can buy something online that will provide instant and lasting results. If nothing else, I can always read another self-help book and free myself of emotional baggage while learning to exist on a new spiritual plane at the same time. Sounds like a good deal to me. I’ll Google it later.
Another reason I’ve been voted off Therapy Island is because I tend to be somewhat uncooperative about nitpicking my childhood. Maybe the reason so many of us refuse to pay money to relive our childhood to exorcise the demons is because it’s just not anyone’s idea of a good time. In fact, it just sucks. If you already know where your issues stem from, do you really need to dig all the to way to the roots? Let’s just deal with the here and now. For example: I’m here because I’m angry. Now I’m going to go kick someone’s butt so I’ll feel better. A simple solution, though not for everyone.
In addition to being impatient and uncooperative, I have a limited attention span. If someone’s sitting across from me spouting psychobabble for more than a minute, my thoughts turn to anything from what I’m having for dinner that night, to trying to recall the lyrics of a song I heard ten years ago. If something like a rogue dust bunny floating through the air should grab my attention, I become a human bobble-head, just nodding and staring off into space. ADHDers are not known for their ability to sit still and focus unless the subject matter interests us in a big way.
Therapy does work for many people. So does revenge. It all depends on who you are, I suppose. My current therapist has her work cut out for her. However, she saw me coming a mile away and made me sign waivers for suicide, homicide, genocide, and whatever other "ides" exist that could be linked to her in the future. Now that I think about it, she seemed prepared with that stack of papers the first time I walked into her office. Huh.
My last therapist had to have a cigarette after spending an hour listening to me. I told him not to worry about it and that I have that effect on most people. I’m not sure if he was waving goodbye to me or flagging down a cop when I left.