getting a therapist
Well, it's just what I need to do. Obviously if you read this then you know that I'm f*cked up. Yeah, yeah, who isn't? Well that's not a whole lot of consolation.

I wrote an email to a friend the other day about this therapist selection deal and I wanted to repeat most of it here. I think I described it all pretty well.

After deciding to see a therapist, you have to pick one. That's the hard part. I always assumed that I'd want a female, but the best therapist I had was a male. So maybe I should go with that. Why don't I like females? It's not that I don't like them, but I'm more inclined to harshly judge them. If she's botoxed out then I won't respect her. If she has a bad dye job, ditto. The one I saw in PA when I got back from Mexico in 2001 had little flags painted on her fake acrylic nails. I couldn't respect her. But I told myself that I was being superficial and that I had no right not judge her like that so I kept seeing her to prove to myself that I was bigger than that. You know what? I'm not. I'm not bigger than that. I'm really that superficial. But because I'm good at doubting the validity of my feelings (which is why I am still with G -- he played on that last year when he convinced me to get back together), I convinced myself that my feelings were wrong and continued with the flag-nail bitch. And didn't get anything accomplished because I didn't trust or respect her opinions. I mean, my god, a woman who makes that kind of decision about her nails has issues, right?

I think I might be less judgmental with a man. I used to think that I wouldn't be able to relate to a male therapist without it being sexual. But my experiences in PA were other. My worst therapy experience was also with a man. So I realize that not all male therapists are good. I'm not an idiot after all. I do wonder if perhaps I am seeking a man to replace the relationship I wish I had with my brother.

An aside about my brother: he called me to see if I was alright in the fires! I figured it was a fluke so I didn't call him back. Then he called and left another message sounding almost worried so I called him back. And then I was an idiot. (Ignore previous statement about not being an idiot; I misspoke.) I started telling him about the drama with G's family on the 3rd and 4th and how something inside me snapped and how I feel like I'm just done. I asked if that made sense or if I was overreacting. You know what dear brother does? And you know, I should really know better by now. Wow. It takes me back to 8th grade when I was depressed about how some boy treated me (Scott? Chris?) and dear brother said, "Well, I have to go powder my nose now. Bye!" Well this time he said, "It makes sense to me but what do I know. Let me pass the phone over to someone who is a lot smarter than I am and you can ask her." WTF??? So his wife gets on the phone and I held my tongue because what I wanted to say was, "So, have you left my brother?" because if not, she is definitely not smarter than he is or even smart enough to give me her opinion on anything much less on a relationship! She gets on the phone and says, "Hey. What's up?" I told her that I only had a few more minutes to talk because i was en route somewhere (all true) so I didn't have time to tell her the story. I was angry, though. And hurt. So perhaps I want a male therapist to fill in that gap.

Back to therapy.. But how to tell if the therapist is going to work? Part of my problem is that I don't trust my judgment in relationships so I stay with someone longer than I should. So doesn't it fit that I would stay with a therapist that wasn't working out longer than I should as well? See? I'm doomed!

I thought about interviewing potential therapists on the phone before making an appointment. Here is what I would say:
I talk and think quickly. I need a therapist who can keep up as I jump from topic to topic, person to person. The therapist must have a sense of humor with healthy respect for both sarcasm and irony. The therapist cannot be shocked by anything I say including foul language or explicit sex talk. The therapist canNOT give me platitudes; no "Oh you are still young!" or "You have a lot to offer." The therapist has to be willing and able to call me on my crap and say, "That's bullshit" when necessary. Actually, a therapist who occasionally swears will make me feel more comfortable. The therapist cannot get my history confused with that of another patient.

Well, I have seen one potential therapist (male) and I'm going to see him again next week before I take off for nearly 3 weeks. He recognized my irony (I'm not sure yet whether he appreciated it) so that's a positive start. And I felt fairly comfortable with him. He wants me to write down my dreams but I don't always remember them. I wonder if there is a way to train myself to do that. Last night I dreamt about a colleague in Germany and there was something about Mickey Mouse and I said to the German colleague's son, "Was ist ihr Name auf Deutsch?" and gestured at the Mickey doll. And the kid said, "Auf Deutsch? Er heist Mickey Mouse." Wow. That's so deep. Why the hell am I speaking GERMAN in a dream?

Oh. Wait. Maybe I know why German was in there. The other day I was gchatting with JI and I said that as an undergrad I was going to to go Hamburg for a year and then I didn't go because I felt like I was just running from problems and that I needed to get myself into therapy to deal with some shit that had happened to me (and stuff I consequently did to myself). I told JI that sometimes I regretted that decision because if I had gone to Hamburg I would be fluent in German now. Could that be why I had to speak German in a dream? Wow. That's probably a stretch. Maybe I should share this blog address with the therapist dude. I wonder if he'd want to read it. I wonder how he would charge me for that time. Well, what do I care? I actually have behavioral health insurance. Yes! I was told by the woman on the phone when I called the insurance (she had this Concerned About Your Well Being voice) that the first 3 visits are free and then I pay a $15 co-pay. And she said that it is unlimited. I got this authorization code that I can use with any in network provider so I don't have to call the insurance company and change drs or anything if I want to. That's pretty damn helpful. The first positive insurance company experience I have had. So, kudos to UC for giving us that. I'll ask the therapist dude (Kurt is his name) if he wants the blog address. But then I might start writing for an audience instead of just spewing forth. And then I wouldn't be as "authentic." Ug. dilemmas. Maybe I'll just use my blog for my logorrhea and then I can just give him the highlights after I process things here. That's probably better. I know a few people read this but I don't want to start writing it for anyone. It's for me. Sorry to be such a selfish bitch, but there you have it.