Therapy, “Scare”apy

I’m a new outpatient at the the Greater Hope Mental Health Facility.

One of the head staff counselors interviews me.

I provide him with my insurance information, list of medications, therapist, psychiatrist, dermatologist, gynecologist, names of my cats, veterinarian, etc.

It takes a village, people (tee hee).

He asks me why I’m there, so I tell him about the abuse.

“Wow”, he says staring at me. “I could write a book about that.”

Are you kidding me? Stupid fuck. “Yes, that would be great”, I say in my people pleasing passive and congenial voice. He smirks.

“Are you suicidal?” 

“ No”.

 “What medications are you on?”

I just told you. “ Paxil.”

“ Have you seen Dr. Carnegie about making changes?” 

“No”.

“Why not?”

“Uh, I…”

“I’ll set up an appointment for you.”

“Ok.” 

“We’ll recommend a standard four weeks pending approval by your insurance company.”

“Ok”.

Looking down at a sheet of paper he reads, “We can help you get through this”.

“Time heals all things”. “It’s a process”.

I remember him preening his beard while doling out his shitty advice.

“Use your wound to allow the light to enter.”

Let’s use your fat ass to allow my foot to enter, I want to shout.

“Alright. Let’s get you down to Group 2 today.”

“Ok.”

He drops me off at the outpatient group therapy room as folks are still wandering in. The social worker running the show asks us all to settle down, and, I look around the room to see who’s got what going on.

I try to find an empty chair as far from the front as possible. Some papers are being pushed around the table along with some pens.

Social Worker Ann says, “For you new folks please fill out the form and pass it back to me.”  

I grab one and reach for a pen. I look at the form.

Name? Medications?

Are you angry?

Yes.

Are you sad?

Why yes.

Are you suicidal?

Fuck yes.

I fill it out with noes across the board and pass it back down. I can tell several people have known each other from previous group sessions and I feel exposed and vulnerable - my palms are sweaty because I have no idea what’s going to happen next.