Lia's Star Jar

You want only to feel something real.

But this, this hurt is the opposite of feeling,

This is numb.

It is focused, it is easy to understand,

But it is not emotion,

That ocean inside of you,

It is not.

Why can you not lay there and cry?

Remember, my dear:

This is not truth.

This is not feeling.

This is not the hard edge of reality.

This is only numbing out.

And you don’t need to do this anymore.

i called from an empty common room in the dorms legs shaking, voice wavering, brain whirling i found their number online of which i was encouraged to google by a youtuber who often closed her videos with ‘everyone can benefit from having a therapist!’ and well i guess i’m everyone? i was introduced to her channel by 7cupsoftea, from their self help library and that website was recommended by tumblr because i’d been searching the kinds of tags that prompt ‘are you ok?’ yes.

no.

maybe.

i want to be.

… hi my name is anxioustimidwired and i’m sitting in a windowless office staring at the floor, spine refusing to touch the chair i remember almost nothing from that first session i’m not sure if i left feeling better or worse still, i returned every few weeks that semester i mostly used writing and art to communicate ‘talk therapy’ intimidated me besides it’s a lot easier to lie to someone when you’re not delivering the message i wrote things that weren’t true i drew things that weren’t mine anything to convince her (i.e. me) that my struggle was the realest of reals i desperately wanted to show her my scars (which right now, four years later would be the last thing i would share in therapy) i was so l o  s t well i got my wish she saw and now i regret it not because of embarrassment or vulnerability but because i’m just like b.f. skinner’s rats operant conditioning makes for a quick learner i’ve since done quite a lot of research regarding nonsuicidal self-injury ‘should clinicians look at the wounds?’ remains a debate in the field i fully agree with one professor’s answer: ‘no. you might inadvertently reinforce the behavior because some individuals use it as a way to signal how much distress they’re in, instead of learning their emotion words.’ it’s taken years but now if my body starts screaming i try to let it out of my mouth rather than onto my skin

part ii: the beast hi my name is restlessecstaticdepressed and i don’t understand i do not understand. i’m the happiest-saddest i’ve ever been being so low that i’m principally dead being so high that i’m above it all being so low that i’m prepared to make myself dead and around the carousel i go i’m feeling sick i’d like to get off please, someone stop this ride … hi my name is dizzydisorientedtorn and that’s a fun state to meet a new therapist in her accent says she’s from london although she doesn’t say much again, my back doesn’t dare rest on the chair how can i allow my body to be comfortable when my mind remains cramped? i take a deep breath and read a raw, precarious poem when i remember the things i shared that day i still prickle with humiliation but she listened she listened without judgment and that was enough she believed me when i spoke of the beast she believed me despite my lack of evidence and contradicting stories she believed me when i didn’t believe me i’d like to think i was honest with her but if i’m being honest right now i probably wasn’t i could only see this counselor for a few months, but T1 was waiting for me wasn’t she?

part iii: the explosion hi my name is suicidaltensefragile and this depression just won’t let me go or maybe i just won’t let this depression go i’ve built a home here it’s not fantastic but well it’s home it’s familiar it’s a place i can always come back to summer’s nearly over and i call my university’s counseling service ‘therapist no. 1 has moved from our office. would you like to see someone else?’ … hi my name is recklessangryvulnerable and that doesn’t bode well with a new counselor, new semester, new living situation first off, he’s a guy so i suppose that’s another new thing i was wary, but the gender difference actually helped tremendously the mucky mother transference began to fade and i let myself get comfortable in his space not too comfortable of course but for once my back rests on the furniture i sit with knees hugged to my chest finally honest this guy is fantastic and funny and he understands tumblr and shit now i like you not in a romantic sense but in a ‘wow we could probably be friends if you didn’t have a code of ethics to uphold’ kind of way the evading, the redirecting, the half-truths begin again as i try to save face thankfully we’ve already accomplished quite a lot i discharge myself it’s for the best because prolonging it will only make termination later that much more painful really, i’m the most okay i have been a long while almost ready to leave behind these self destructive habits exactly two days after i say goodbye e  e y   h  n v   r    t    i   g e   p  o   e x l   d   s that bomb requires a poem of its own so all i will say is i was forced to see yet another counselor … hi my name is betterbitterdefiant and i am not talking to you i’m so fine i have nothing to say (( what is going on? )) i’m so fine i want to scream (( why am i here? )) i’m so fine but i’m about to be not fine because you’re convinced i cannot possibly be we’re talking about something but my mind is elsewhere i fantasize over smashing the obnoxious mirror behind your chair then sprinting away from this vapid office want to know why we can never seem to resolve that trauma? because it never. fucking. happened.

part iv: the aftermath hi my name is defeateddesperaterelieved and i’ve landed myself on another therapist’s couch this time for an intensive dbt program thus my summer became diary cards-meal logs-likert scales galore mindfulness-paced breathing-progressive muscle relaxation distress tolerance-emotion regulation-psychoeducation group therapy-ensure-ssris therapy-therapy-therapy recovery-recovery-recovery it became my full-time job and i was ready to put in my two weeks notice starting sertraline was too much i’d given the counselor my razors so all i had left was restriction it was not a good time but at least i was honest i got help … hi my name is mortifiedpatronizedvigilant and the family session is just wrapping up if i ever have to endure another one of these i’m bringing headphones and a pillow and maybe a knife

i hate that you don’t understand and that i can’t explain it i hate that you assume you’ve failed as a parent when really i’m the one who failed as the child but most of all i hate myself for what i’ve put my family through

part v: the rebuilding hi my name is embarrassedneedystubborn and i can’t admit that i want to be here can’t accept that i need to be here so i lie lie lie i’m counting on resistance from you maybe even a few warnings or threats i need you to fight for me but you don’t ‘behold: the miracle client who was cured in 2.5 sessions!’ i’m not ready (eating remains a challenge) i’m not ready (i got more razors) i am not ready (i flirt with high places) but still you close my file … hi my name is renewedhonestaware and i’m giving ‘recovery’ - whatever that is a try for the umpteenth time i’m ready to do the work i guess it only took seven therapists a few physicians and a psychiatrist the support of friends, family and several strangers on the internet to undo years of self loathing and destruction except you can’t exactly reverse that kind of internal perversion so i suppose what we’re really doing is rebuilding

i am under construction.

i am a work in progress.

hello my name is rebuilding.