Cognitive But-Seriously-What-the-Fuck Therapy

I hate when I have a fairly non-eventful therapy session, and then less than 24 hours later something dumb happens with my family and I’m like, “Ooh… Well, I am ready to unpack ALL of this right now. Can I schedule a bonus session? Erm…actually, can we make a double?”

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Single white female seeks mythological creature

Therapist: “So what made you want to write back to this particular man on the dating site?”
Me: “I don’t know… I mean, like you said, I have to start SOMEWHERE. And he seems nice, and fairly literate, and he’s tall with pretty good teeth.”
Therapist: “OK, good! I mean, maybe we’ll work on getting you some higher standards, but —“
Me: “Oh, no, you don’t understand. I know YOU look for women on the apps, but those qualifications for MEN? I might as well be seeking a unicorn.”

Slutty von Slutwhore is lurking in the wings…

I’m not GONNA give my friends access to my dating apps so they can handle the correspondence and I won’t freeze up and feel like stress vomiting when I try talking to people I WANT to answer.
 
But I’ve definitely considered it.
 
I’m not sure what I’m scared of, exactly, but it’s definitely fear. Of WHAT, Brain? Effort? Failure? Success?
 
Christ. This is gonna be a LONG year in therapy. She’s already told me, “You can just DATE them, you don’t have to have sex with them,” and I…do not understand that boundary. I’ve waited too long — if a man touches me the right way, I’m-a fuck him. I won’t even WANT to, my body will just DO it, and then I’ll feel bad about it, and then we can talk about THAT in therapy. It’s the Circle of Slut Shame, Simba!

Could you maybe just…not?

Guy I Dated for a Minute and I have mutual Facebook friends, but aren’t friends ourselves. I last saw him at a holiday party last year. We were friendly but didn’t talk much, and haven’t communicated since. Today he “liked” two of my comments — about a local bagel shop — on a friend’s post.

What in the schmeared fuck am I supposed to do with that? Stop being weird! I’m finally OK about you using me for sex and then ghosting on me because I am bad in bed or somehow otherwise boring or underwhelming… OH WAIT. See that? No, I’m not — I had just successfully buried it like a proper Irish girl should. Could you just stop being weird, then?

(Logically I know that’s not what he meant to do, and he’s probably at least half decent because my friends aren’t friends with assholes, and he just tweaked something in my pre-existing condition, and I’m glad I’m in therapy.)

Can I have imposter syndrome ABOUT imposter syndrome?

I hate when you tell a therapist something and she says, “OK, well, [logic logic logic], but also that’s definitely something we’ll continue working on.”

That’s Therapist for, “Gurl, you cray.”

Pfft. Like it’s so crazy to not believe you can even HAVE “imposter syndrome” because, “Well, it’s not a syndrome — all that stuff is just TRUE.” Honestly. Goddamn hippies. 🙄

(^ See, now, that’s a joke, ‘cause I KNOW that’s kinda fucked up, so please don’t think I’m serious, and then explain the syndrome, and then make me feel like I have imposter syndrome re: effective use of sarcasm.)

Art imitating life

When I told my therapist I was having a hard time getting myself to respond to OkCupid messages, even when I WANTED to, and I went over my previous experiences with online dating, she said, “Well, yeah, that makes sense. If you’d tried ice skating 10 times and ended up breaking an ankle every time, you probably wouldn’t be too excited to try again.”YUP.