I'm bitter and rusted. I'm convinced I'm over; I'm convinced I'm through.
The world will end tomorrow. What do you do today?
Let me tell you a story. Three months ago I started seeing this therapist. Don't ask me why I finally went. I think it had something to do with a job I was trying to get. Anyway, I started seeing this therapist...and then I started sleeping with him. He was abusive, and I think I liked it. It was like better therapy than anything else I could have got from anyone. I'd still go to his sessions, but we'd always end up fucking on the couch. This all must sound really fucked up, and I'm aware of that. But I assure you, it gets worse, so you maybe want to stop reading now. Well one night he hit me really hard, and started screaming at me. He never did that before. I got really scared and locked myself in the closet. I started crying hysterically, and then I had a flashback to when I was eleven and my dad hit my mom with a baking sheet and I hid from him in my closet. I didn't come out until long after he was gone. My therapist, I mean. So much for the therapy, right?
If the world ended tomorrow, I'd go back and tell all the men who've hurt me in my life that they can go to hell and I'm done with them now, starting with my father.
Let me tell you a story. Three months ago I started seeing this therapist. Don't ask me why I finally went. I think it had something to do with a job I was trying to get. Anyway, I started seeing this therapist...and then I started sleeping with him. He was abusive, and I think I liked it. It was like better therapy than anything else I could have got from anyone. I'd still go to his sessions, but we'd always end up fucking on the couch. This all must sound really fucked up, and I'm aware of that. But I assure you, it gets worse, so you maybe want to stop reading now. Well one night he hit me really hard, and started screaming at me. He never did that before. I got really scared and locked myself in the closet. I started crying hysterically, and then I had a flashback to when I was eleven and my dad hit my mom with a baking sheet and I hid from him in my closet. I didn't come out until long after he was gone. My therapist, I mean. So much for the therapy, right?
If the world ended tomorrow, I'd go back and tell all the men who've hurt me in my life that they can go to hell and I'm done with them now, starting with my father.