So, this latest Ask Polly wins an award for being the thing that has come the closest to convincing me to seek out professional therapy. Closest to convinced, but not all that close. The problem is that the reason I should probably do therapy is the exact same reason that I absolutely can’t.
Polly describes a therapist as someone who “…maybe occasionally nudges you to try to shift your experience of what’s happening around you,” and that is not something I want someone to do. As childish (or teen-gothish) as it seems, I am pretty sure that the way I see the world is correct.
That is, I’m a big whiny baby who doesn’t deserve to be listened to — which is exactly a thing that Polly addresses! But you have to be able to get over that at least a little bit in order to find yourself in a therapist’s office in the first place, right? And that is one little bit I can’t seem to handle.
(Also, I leave for work at 5:00am, and get back from work at 8:00pm every weekday, and I’ll be damned if I can figure out when I’m supposed to meet with a therapist.)
(Also, I can’t afford it. I know there are therapists with “sliding scales” and whatnot, but I’m not sure how their means-testing works. I make okay money, but about 60% of my monthly income goes towards paying a mortgage, so I look alright on a paystub, but in fact I have no money to speak of.)
(Also, I think the world is a bad place where the evil far, far outweighs the good, and that the overabundance of suffering in it means that there is probably a God, but that He doesn’t like us very much and is not to be trusted. Maybe I should see a philosopher about that, rather than a therapist. The point is, I’m right about the world, and I don’t want my perspective of it to shift in such a way so that I am unprepared for the horrendous shit that will inevitably happen.)