Lying to my therapist.

On Monday, I lied to my therapist. 

It was the first time I have intentionally lied to her in the hope that she wouldn’t think I’m a bad person. 

I realise this is flawed, and I shall list why now:

  • She is, as far as I know, pretty damn objective and I don’t think she’d judge me.
  • She doesn’t believe that people are “good” or “bad”; she understands the complexity of humans and knows that people are more than a three or four letter word.
  • Even if she did think I was “bad” she certainly wouldn’t tell me.

    Some people might say that it shows some disharmony between the two of us if I’m willing to lie to her but, instead, I’d suggest it shows disharmony within myself.

    I’ve just sent her a text telling her that I faced one of my fears this morning. I’ll face the rest of them next week.

    Different.

    “You’re different now.”, she said to me last night in a dream. She’s right. I’m on the brink of a breakdown and a self fulfilling prophecy. 

    She epitomises everything I look for in a woman and yet I know those things aren’t compatible with me.

    I’m all banter and good news face to face and I’m bitterness and sexual objectification online. 

    My therapist told me that I don’t like certain things about other people because I don’t like those things about myself.

    In which case, she’s a fucking flirt and I have no idea where I stand. Ergo, I’m a fucking flirt and she’s in the fucking dark about my feelings.

    Being blunt hasn’t helped so I doubt being sensitive will. Instead I’ll just send her a mixed signal message and get angry when she doesn’t bite.

    She.

    She is not the one. But she is a one and, as Germaine from RBW said, that’s all I need right now.

    She’s not enough and yet could be deemed to be too much.

    She teases me and rejects me and confuses me on a daily basis. She tells me she’s scared and I get that. But fuck it, I’m scared too.

    She is everything I love and hate and she mirrors so much of me that it’s scary.

    She is nowhere near where I am. And I fear she never will be.

    Fear.

    “Does that frighten you?”, my therapist asked me in our reflective time at the end of our session.

    “Yes.”, I replied; without even contemplating it.

    “Good. It should.”, was her response.

    Fear drives us forward.

    Today, I’m driving and I’ll be full of fear. I’m doing a rail replacement bus service in London and I’m terrified. I was talking to a colleague about it and he said “You get a buzz; the unknown roads, knowing you might get lost. It’ll spur you on!”. There was a hunger in his eyes.

    There are only flashing danger signs in mine.

    For me, fear is very social based. Fear of rejection. Fear of not being good enough. Fear that someone will realise that I’m 23 and basically just winging it.

    You can’t wing London.

    Humanity.

    “I’m done with humanity!”, I say at least twice a week.

    “America is screwed!”, “This whole world is going to pot!” 

    I could go on.

    Humanity is a fuck up. 

    Humanity is also:

    • A woman seeing a blind man’s shoelaces undone and stopping him to do them up.
    • A man getting off a stop early, in the pouring rain, and giving up his seat for a woman with a pushchair. 
    • A little kid wishing me a “good day driver”.

    People call the seats at the front of the bus “the best seats”. But recently someone said that my seat is the best seat and I can’t argue with that.

    From my privileged seat, I see humanity in its rawest form and I wouldn’t change that for anything.