Or How Therapy Destroyed my Perspective
I truly and sincerely hate therapists. I'm sorry if any of you who read this are therapists, but I just cannot like them after what they did to me.
It all started about 2 years ago. I was kind of sad that day, you know, stuff happened. Anyway, I jokingly said to a friend that I'd kill myself. In retrospect, probably shouldn't have said it, but I still say they overreacted. Next thing I know, I have to go to the hospital for a psycho-analysis.
It got really downhill when I had to wait FOUR HOURS before anyone came. Then, I misunderstand a question, and it is recommended that I stay in the hospital. Totally wrong call, thankfully Mom realizes that and takes me home.
But it wasn't over yet. Oh no, not by a long shot. Because of that misunderstood question, I'm forced to go to therapy for THREE MONTHS! Adding insult to injury, one of the therapists was very insulting and demeaning, they should re-evaluate their hiring policies if she's allowed to work there. So I got this for three months, and it all starts me on some thinking. While trying to delve into my mind (which they never did. Hah!), I started thinking about things I dislike in my life. And that ain't healthy.
Finally, the three months end and therapy is over. Of course, by then I'm almost constantly thinking about not only what I hate in my life, but what I hate in the world. And it gave me a sadness equal to that of, you guessed it, DEPRESSION! So I was given therapy to treat something I didn't have, then I was given it by the therapy. Thanks alot therapy, you nearly eliminated all traces of optimism I ever had!