[yagr]

I had an epiphany today. I'm posting about this here because it was an interaction with a psychologist I saw today that triggered the epiphany. Expect a rambling rant...

I've always known that I hate social interaction and 'hate' may actually be too mild a word. I don't socialize, I don't have friends and I am happy as a pig in the proverbial mud pile that way. Today though, I realized why. I've been seeing a therapist and psychiatrist for about a year now. They referred me to a psychologist for testing and I saw him today. Have to go back tomorrow for the actual tests. Anyway...

For a year I've been trying to communicate with these professionals and failing. I believe that they don't listen to me, and are incapable of hearing anything but their own preconceived idea's through the sounds that come out of my mouth. I could be wrong – maybe I'm the one not listening, but I do try and so, if I'm the one not listening, it's because I am incapable.

I've got some serious stuff going on right now in my life. I'm disabled and awaiting disability. I've got incurable, untreatable issues and am dying. In the meantime, money is extremely tight – like, after insurance and gas money to get to my doctors appointments that average 18 appointments a month, my wife and I live on $300/month. We live in a barn that we share with the animals for crying out loud. I'm watching my wife lose her mind watching me die in front of her and there's nothing I can do about it. But you know what is the absolutely hardest thing in my life right now? Interacting with my therapist and psychiatrist.

And today, when I had to see the psychologist and my hope that he would be different and listen ran smack dab into his preconceived ideas about me from their notes – I realized why I hate being around people and why I don't form long lasting relationships (with the notable exception of my wife)...

I don't get people – and they don't get me. I believe I understand them, but I don't relate to them. I pretend I understand people I run into out in public, and I do such a convincing job of pretending, that they believe I'm just like them. The more I get to know them, the more acting I end up doing. The better I get to know them, the more unlike me I have to be. Why am I not just myself around them? Good question. Probably started as a child when I got beat up every day growing up for being different. It hurt less to pretend to be one of the guys. And then I got older. You know, the manager at the place you're looking for a job is more likely to give you the job you need if he likes you. The renter is more likely to rent you the apartment if he likes you. The cop is more likely to let you go with a warning if he likes you. Etc., etc., etc.

So I go into therapy and I try to get real. Because really, what's the point of playing games here, right? But nothing has changed. I think differently. They don't understand me and I can't explain me to them in a way they can understand. They ask me questions and I can't answer them because the questions don't make sense to me. I just don't understand them. Do I think people should try to understand their dreams and take heed from them? How the hell do I know? Am I God to decide what people “should” do? Well just tell me what you think they should do. Didn't you just hear me? I don't flippin know what someone else should do! What's right for one person might not be right for someone else! You're over-thinking this, just go with your gut. You don't want me to go with my gut because my gut says to hit you over the head with a rock right about now.

So tomorrow I get to go in for six hours of questions just like that one. I shouldn't worry because he's very good and he's going to compare my answers to the answers of hundreds of thousands of men just like me to get an accurate diagnosis. I wonder if all those hundreds of thousands of men closed their eyes and picked answers at random too.


Anyway, I found a second therapist...she's wonderful and I had the foresight to schedule an appointment with her for immediately after these tests. But it's absolutely ridiculous in so many ways. I have to go to this therapist and psychiatrist along with the referring psychologist for disability. Then I had to get a therapist just to deal with the stress, not from being terminal or anything - but from having to deal with these pompous, arrogant, condescending 'professionals'.

I think I actually made it through this post without a single cuss word too...darn, I'm awesome.

[CantExplain]

I'm an Aspergic and Madame T never really understood what that meant and she certainly never made any allowance for it.

If your T doesn't understand you, maybe time to get another T.