You Can’t Win

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Me:  It doesn’t matter what you do, you can’t win with me.
Dr. D: I’m not trying to win or lose.
Me: I mean no matter what you do today it won’t be right. I just doesn’t matter, I’m too angry to hear you.
Dr. D: I thought you felt better, that’s what you said Monday.
Me: I do feel better. I don’t fear that I’m going to walk in front of a bus like I worried about before.  That’s better, I’m not nearly as impulsive, but I still don’t care and I still just don’t want to be here.

He suggested I get a part time job and get out of the house. I suggested he listen to me better about how hard it is to leave the house. He told me when I feel threatened I accuse him of not caring and not listening to me. I told him when he suggested I get a part time job what went through my head was how quickly I could lose the tiny bit of income I have now. All he has to do is write that down and I’m screwed. I told him my response was pure fear and that if he’d actually heard me about how difficult it is to leave the house he never would have suggested I get a job.

I left angry.

We talked a bit about what happened with me and that girl who likes incest stories. I said I had every opportunity to walk away but I was pissed that she would ask such questions then want me to have sex with her. She said to me, “You can fuck me as hard as you want.” I could easily have told her to go fuck herself and that I wouldn’t tell her what my mother did to me, then do that to her. I could have but I didn’t, I just did it. I did it with a hell of a lot of anger like, who the hell do you think you are to ask me for these details then have me do it to you? Pissed, just pissed. I felt set up, like she had my trust and simply stepped all over it. I was clear about not wanting any part of BDSM. I was very clear. I felt betrayed, now I just feel like a well has been tapped and I’m having a hard time plugging it back up. That is why I want to die, that is why I’m depressed, not because I stay home too much alone. He figured if I got a job I could leave the house more. I told him my home is my safe place, I’m not depressed because I’m home too much, I’m depressed because I’m a stupid fuck who didn’t walk away when she had every chance to. Instead of walking away, I responded like a dear in headlights then like a fucking psychopath…like my mother.

At one point the woman made further requests of “suffering”. When she did this flash of anger came over me , anger I hope to never feel again.  What went through my mind was something my mother use to say to me.  A When my mother got finished with me she’d leave my room and I’d get up and turn the radio on and dance. She’d barge back in pissed as all hell and ask, “Didn’t you get enough? Do you want more?” That’s what flashed through my head when this woman asked had further requests. I learned not to dance after she was done with me. Just act beaten down and don’t move……. just don’t move.

I’m still angry and I just don’t want to do this. I hate this. I hate everything.

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