My poor, poor naive therapist.
Recently, I noticed I’m always trying to give lots of witty advice and making it seem like I totally learned some big lesson in my posts. But I have to admit that most of the time taking my own advice is the hardest part for me. Half the time, the second I’m finished writing about how the best way to handle the situation is to accept it as “x, y, and z,” I’m instantly thinking of self-destructive ways of getting my ex’s attention. In the past this has taken the form of obsessively texting more and more outrageous things in the desperate hope that I might get a response. Any response will do.
So because of the drama from this weekend, I’ve been a tad emotional and the past couple days have been spent doing everything in my power to keep the cell phone out of my hands so I don’t text the ex emotionally sappy messages about how I can’t live without him. I confessed to my therapist yesterday about these urges and a bright smile almost immediately crossed her face as she narrowed in on what she obviously thought was an amazing idea.
She suggested that every time I had the desire to text him, I text her instead. I stared at her, shaking my head in pity. She obviously had no idea what she was offering to get herself into. I said I couldn’t. That she’d end up quickly regretting that. She insisted. She said she wouldn’t mind at all.
I told her that I definitely do not pay her enough to endure that type of torture and I hoped she had unlimited text messaging otherwise she most certainly would mind when she got her phone bill the next month. She just laughed lightly as if I was kidding and asked when I wanted to come in next.
