Laughs and Lobotomies

I did not tell my therapist why I wouldn’t be seeing him any longer – I just stopped making appointments.

But there was a reason.

I had lost my second application for SSDI, and been traumatized by the application process. 

I didn’t leave the apartment for a month or so because of it.

Our housing was in question – we weren’t sure we could afford where we were, and my physical health remained an issue.

We didn’t have help we thought we would have – and I had thought maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to have bariatric surgery.

But with all these things falling through, even if the psych eval passed me, there was no way we could support me having the surgery.  We weren’t stable enough.

My partner’s father wanted him to leave me and move home. 

My partner is a strong man and we will weather this storm together – he said no to his father.  But it hurt to hear that all the same.

And all of these things had recently happened.

And in my last session, knowing all these things, my therapist said I “did not seem upset enough”.

I have cried on my partner’s shoulder many nights.

I have screamed into the void.

I have thrown things at the wall.

And I have sat in therapy with a dead blank look on my face from exhaustion.

I have been told my whole life how I should or should not feel.

And I will not have anyone else dictate how my emotions “should” be.  They are mine and mine alone.  There is no right way to feel.

So if that therapist ever wanted an explanation – now he has it.