Sometimes I say self loathing things to my therapist and he looks at me dead in the eyes before saying βYou fucking moron.β and tbh same
Me: I think I donβt exist.
Therapist: Listen, you do exist, and if you didnβt, someone would have to create you because the world would be a much sadder place.
Me: Jerome, how dare you saying something so sweet when Iβm dissociating.
Me: Honestly, (thing that is totally fucked up for any βsaneβ person) is normal, right?
Therapist: No.
Me: Wow.
Therapist: Youβre just a fucked up bitch.
Me: I do agree with the fucked up bitch part.
Therapist: Thatβs a start!
Me: I guess heβs still my friend?
Therapist: Considering what you told me and how much you wanna beat him to death, heβs not. You pretty much hate him despite knowing him for years.
Me:
Me: Why did I need to come here to realize that.
Therapist: Because thatβs my job to help you to understand some stuff. Also because youβre way too kind and you would let someone punch you in the guts and still consider them as your friend while they stab you.
Me: I donβt need that kind of call out, Jerome.
Me: Hey, I brought you coffee. And croissants too, but I ate them. *puts Starbucks coffee in front of him*
Therapist: Oh thatβs nice!!... Oh my name is on it!!
Me: Yeah!!
Therapist: Itβs wholesome but... *very confused and silently*... How do I drink it?
Me, not being able to come to my appointment and having to call him: Iβm sorry, itβs all my fault, Iβm so so so sorr-
Therapist: I dare you to say sorry one more time. I dare you.
Therapist: Hey I wanna show you this super funny image I found the other day.
Me: What-
Therapist: *turns his screen and show me THIS*Β
Me:Β
Me: Jerome.
Therapist: You went to the gaypride?
Me: Yeah, I went.
Therapist: Was it something you enjoyed?
Me: Mh. Yeah. Sorta.
Therapist: Did you see some bears?
Me:
Me: Jerome wh-
Therapist: Thatβs the only term I know outside of the LGTB one, I wanted to use it.Β
Therapist: Are you sure youβre not becoming roommate with (name) because of pity? Kinda sacrificing yourself?
Me: No, I want it!!
Therapist: Finally, youβre not forcing yourself for the others! And youβre doing something you want! Iβm proud of you!
Me: Youβre more of a dad than my own father.
Therapist: Thatβs not very hard.
Me: I always wondered, are you queer?
Therapist: I am not.
Me: Ooh.
Therapist: Or am I?
Me: Ooh!
As an update, Jerome gave my appointment to someoneβs else today so we were both in the waiting room, confused and he walked in, patted my head and said sorry but honestly it was hilarious.
The secretary came to tell me that Jerome actually forgot to write me down on the appointment list.
This is a 100% normal situation with Jerome as my Therapist.
As an addition, more than half of my friends want Jerome to adopt me and refer to him as βTherapist dadβ.
Heβs aware of it and think itβs hilarious.
Me, after complaining for the 25 times about my birth father: Idk if you noticed, but Iβm full of anger against him.
Therapist: Oh, really, I never noticed.Β You know, you should turn that anger intoΒ indifference. It would help you.
Me: Unholy gods, I wish it was me.
Therapist: You know, people will still love you even if you donβt offer them things all the time. You donβt have to do that.
Me: What??
Therapist: Why donβt you send a mail to your psychiatrist when you have a bad mood swing?
Me: Like what? βHey JoΓ«l wassup, Iβve been very suicidal lately last night I wanted to die. Hope you have rad vacations and the weed is good save some good kush for me, kissy kissy.β ?
Therapist: Exactly.
Me: Youβre as bad as me with human interactions Jerome, yβknow.
Me, heavily dissociating: I donβt exist-
Therapist: Can I touch you to prove you that you do?
Me: Dinner first.
Therapist:
Therapist: Damien, you moron.
Therapist: You need vacations.
Me: Iβm broke.
Therapist: Oh yeah.
Therapist: You still need vacations tho.
Me: Jerome, I am still broke.
Me, by text: Hey, you just walk by me!
Therapist, by text: Oh sorry. I didnβt see you.
Therapist, by text: Wait. Were you at the tattoo shop?
Me, by text, totally at the tattoo shop: You have no proof.
For a bit of context here: Around two months ago I went to a friendβs who happened the live on the same street as Jerome, which I didnβt know. He was really surprised to see me and came to check on me, asking me why I was here with a bit of concern on his voice. And this take place earlier this month:
Therapist: So your friend lives in the same street than I?
Me: Yes. Townβs short I guess.
Therapist: Were you really going to your friend...?
Me: Yes?? Why else would I be here?
Therapist: A lot of drug deals happen in this street and I see often teenagers and young adults coming and buy stuffs. I was a bit worried for you.
Jerome is beautiful I want a Jerome in my life
