Just as I am writing this, I’m reflecting back on the things that may be petty, but overall things that people have done that have hurt me, whether if they were intentional or not. More recently, I’ve had what seemed like a loss that turn out to be one of the best things that have ever happened – letting go and starting new.
At times, we can get caught up among circles that show some toxicity and addictive to the point one can become a glutton for punishment. My most recent had to have been the counselors I’ve been seeing ever since I started the trails of my confirmed diagnoses. Three of them, to be exact, as a team of psychotherapists who would jot down the symptoms displayed in an individual and confirm them with the psychiatrist. They weren’t the ten – eleven months worth of wasted time, which I will give them credit for. Just the way I’ve concluded with them and their overall assumptions about me outside the confidential standards between a client and case manager was where it went wrong.
I guess one can say that there’s been many red flags that gave the signs of bad therapy taking place during my time of treatment. After a few months saying minimal about my past, there came the tiny breakthroughs that I knew deep within me would have me become vulnerable. I knew to trust nobody, even professionals, about the problems I had in terms of intimacy, trust and infidelity. There’s no doubt that the first two were apparent, but I never talk about the infidelities that made me have emotional affairs with married men and the fact that I was never the good quality in terms of finding proper dates. I know by saying these things, I’m vulnerable to the criticisms by strangers, and who knows, even my therapists if they happen to find my blog. The purpose of this is to open up and write what I know I would never say.
Shortly after my departure of my psychotherapists, a friend was asked by the very administrator of the system whether or not I was/am a stripper. Yes, this happened – no respect in asking me in person nor keeping anything confidential as their profession tells them to do. Must I explain myself? No, because I know what I am and am not and being a stripper is not one of them. How I get my income or any sense of intimacy is essentially nobody’s business to begin with. When I heard of this, I couldn’t hide the fact as to how psychologically and spiritually shattered I became. People, at the end of the day, trying to ruin my name by making assumptions and having the audacity to ask/say about their claims to another person whom having no business to know much about my intimate-life. What could have I done at that point?
While it affirms to not saying about my deep-rooted issues, it also has opened my eyes as to how free I’ve been set since I became suspended from their program. Was it right? No. But sometimes the injustice can bring the benefit of the one afflicted of the unjust and have them move on to something better, since I too am a human being with emotions and a (broken) soul. What became the day of my potential breakdown was also a gain for me to seek (somewhat) better treatment. I hope that by learning about the potential effects of counselor abuse there can be something done to keep the client, no matter their diagnosis or past, their dignity and respect that unfortunately gets lost within the pages of reports.
I chose to listen. I chose to heal. Why? Because I deserve it.