Can Someone Fail Therapy?

As I said in previous posts, I'm reading Self Matters by Dr. Phil. I reached the part where I was suppose to list my life's defining moments. I had thirty of them when I finished, some good, some bad. The therapist wanted us to discuss them together. I took the list and went to see her on Tuesday. I looked it over before I went in, thinking of what I wanted to say about each thing. I was preparing for what felt like a test. What if I listed something that when I recounted it, sounded so trivial? What if she thought I shouldn't have put that on there? What if I didn't do it right? This is how my mind works. Got to do it right or else. Or else what?

So I figured we've got an hour, thirty things...I can whiz through this in no time. But of course, she had other ideas. I would tell her what happened, in a very few sentences (I kept thinking keep this brief!) For example, when I was five, and my mom left me in a parking lot while she ran into a store (It was a pretty common thing in those years.) A man pulled up in a pickup truck in front of our car, opened his door, and exposed and fondled himself. I freaked, crawled into the floorboard and hid until my mom came back. I was crying. That's all I remember.

Then the counselor would say how did you feel? I'd written a few of those words besides each one, knowing that would be a definite question she would ask me. So I'd say, "Scared, confused, etc." Then she would say, "Tell me how it feels to feel scared when you're five. Huh? I wasn't prepared for that. I had no answer for her. "What did your mom say when she got back and you were hiding in the floorboard crying?" I had no idea.

We went over five of my thirty things in our hour of therapy time. I felt like I moved too slowly because I didn't know the right answers. How messed up is that?

So I guess I don't get the purpose of all this. At the same time, it makes me very uncomfortable to have to go back and do this again next week, considering at this rate, this could take quite a few weeks to finish. I feel like I'd get an F in therapy. Or at least a D. So maybe I can get perfect attendence. And I know how messed up that is.

I'm craving chocolate so badly today I just want to run out and grab a huge hot fudge sundae and pig out. No, I'm not going to do it. I can't afford to undo what I've lost just to have a little comfort. A nap maybe. At least that won't make me fatter.