It’s kind of ironic how motivated you have to be in order to seek out psychological help. And getting it, that’s a whole other thing. You have to be motivated for that too. And then you have to maintain that motivation throughout the therapy itself, pushing forward like you really want it, to “get better”. They’ll lie to you and tell you that none of your behaviors are bad, because part of their job is blowing smoke up your ass and making up annoying compliments. Because people trust people who give them compliments, right? It’s like how when you tell a man that he has a nice dick (just say it’s big) mid-fuck, and suddenly his eagerness quadruples. Then you tell him he’s the best fuck you’ve ever had, that all you think of is just him, and god, he’s just so big! Suddenly he’s a lot more excited to see you.
That’s basically what therapists do. It takes months, but every time you come in, they lay it on and expect it to somehow instill closeness and trust. I feel like every fumble to make me trust is another step back. It just looks glaring and obvious, and they sit there smiling like there isn’t this fucking completely conspicuous thing. Maybe I read to much into everything. I mean, of course I do.
I don’t know what I’m talking about anymore.
My friend texted me today, telling me how her boyfriend being away during the day is driving her crazy and she’s been tracking his phone and so on. Convenient time to mention this, since this particular behavior of hers was what made me leave last week. So she lays it on, telling me that it’s terrible and how will she cope… All I’m thinking is how its odd she keeps repeating it, and doesn’t she know that I know, that she’s saying all this so that I will feel like the incident last week was not unique? Doesn’t she know that i already have her thought process written out in my head like pages from a book? I’m ten pages ahead—what the fuck is she doing all the way back there, still stuck on convincing me that it wasn’t about me? I already know. I knew then. I know now. But that’s the thing about her: she thinks she can predict me, but the only view she’s ever been able to see is her own. I talk about my mother and suddenly she’s questioning everything and making assumptions based on her own mother. It’s like she’s stuck. She can’t wander off the road. Everything in the world is based on her suspicious experiences with her family rather than say, my words/stories about my mother and her particular personality.
I think this a lot about myself. My awareness is, of course, the result of experience. Does it blind me? Does it make me biased when guessing on the motives of others? It can’t not. I think that’s what’s important about all of this: an awareness that insight will always be a little off. I’m never going to know 100%. I can look at what people in my life have done and make an attempt to hypothesize from there, give it an educated guess, but people can and will surprise me at some point. I also have seen more untrustworthy behavior than the sort that should be trusted. I know that. It’s something I often find hard to overcome, if at all.
At the end of the day though, let’s be real here. I’m just not as bad at it as she is. It’s like she saw some dramatic lifetime movies and now the whole world revolves around that unreal behavior. She can’t even guess right about people she knows. Her boyfriend was guarding a purse at the laundromat. A woman had walked away and he had noticed and stood next to it so no one would take it.
My friend’s first response (we hadn’t seen the woman leave, and didn’t know what he was doing) when he asked her to walk over so he could hear her, was to tell him she “didn’t want involved” with whatever he was doing. He was standing there, obviously looking around for someone while he stood next to it.
Logicially, he wasn’t trying to steal from it because he wasn’t touching it, he wasn’t even looking at it. Nothing about how he was acting gave any indication that he was going to steal from it. But that’s her first assumption. This guy that she’s known for years is suddenly, randomly, going to steal from some woman’s purse. It’s like he was a stranger. Nothing she knew about him, his personality, had any bearing in the situation. Even only knowing him a few weeks at that point, it was completely clear to me that he was watching someone’s purse, not because I don’t think people steal, but I know having spoken to her boyfriend, that he wasn’t the type. Of course, he later confirmed my assumption when the woman came back and he explained to her that she’d forgotten it and he was worried someone would take it.
What the fuck. And she’s like this all the time. I don’t want to think of the assumptions she makes about my behavior. On top of that, she secretly looks down on everyone and assumes they don’t notice her blatant manipulation. It’s so obvious when she’s doing it, that I cringe. There’s no subtlety, no surprise, just this giant fucking tank barreling through a forest, felling all the trees and acting like no one can fucking SEE or HEAR it. It’s right there, it’s loud as fuck, and it’s more garish than fucking pink plaid!
Sometimes it makes me want to bash my brains in. It’s like dealing with a narcissistic child. And then you tell her things and she just parrots them back to you, forgetting that you were the one that told her in the first place. Over and over and over.
There’s been a lot of complaints. I know. I think the solution to this problem is to not have one at all. I’m considering more or less abandoning ship on her. It’s getting ridiculous, for more than one reason, and I feel like I’ve overstayed my welcome. She can keep her marriage fantasies (yes, this is a thing, also, take notice that it’s plural) and her boyfriend issues. I’m getting bored and I really just don’t have much tolerance. I need her for now, for various logical reasons, but we’ll see if she gets the chopping block in a few months.
I’m hoping she’ll be overly cautious now, but I feel like that’s a lofty expectation where she’s concerned.