I was in Grade 8. One day I was picked up early from school and taken to an office where a guy names John wanted to talk to me. The narcissist would sit in the reception area for a while, I would talk with John, and somewhere through the hour, she was brought back in and filled in on what we had talked about.
If you ever have your narcissist parent take you to therapy? Stop going.Immediately.
The room was late, as I remember, in the basement in the city. It was. converted house, and there was no receptionist. I think this guy had counselled my parents, and as previously blogged, I was being bullied, and beat up in school. I hung around with the smaller kids, as they were kinder. I found one of my report cards from my teacher George in my adult years, and also as previously blogged, was shocked to read his comments about my home life affecting my education.
And here I am know in John’s office.
The furniture was brown leather, I always chose the rocker, I didn’t want to sit on the couch. John sat across the room, his desk was in the corner, with shelves on the wall across from the couch full of books.
I remember not being very forthcoming after a few meetings, I basically agree with everything, and here’s why.
My recollections were not the same recollections the the narcissist had.
I really wish my dad would have been able to take me to the appointments, he always believed me, and defended me, much to her chagrin. She even wet as far as to tell me well into my 30’s… ‘all you have ti do us cry and he gives you whatever you want.’
I would explain situations, and feelings, and every single time she would come in and the information was relayed to her, she would always, every fucking time, turn ti me, and shake her head ever so slightly… and say ‘no, that’s not the way that happened’. She would then proceed to change the story, as she remembered it ( which we all know Martha has now PROVED accurate and the narc had zero recollection).
Why the fuck would I keep trying?
It. lasted about a year, I dreaded every second Thursday afternoon. She never made time for us, it was in the city, out of the city, save for the grocery store across the street.
Fast forward to my marriage being in trouble, and I suggested him as a couples therapist.
I was going to hairstyling school at the time, and my ex husband was enjoing the pleasures of his now wife, while I was in school. The kids would be locked int he bedroom from the outside at her home, and their nap time was his and she’s fun time, with no repercussions, as the kids were 2 and 3 and could tell.
He never got out of bed before noon, and I had to leave early to make 9 am roll call.
I tried to explain my frustrations about hm not being available for our son, sleeping while he was awake for hours in his crib unattended, I was constantly calling home to wake him. I had to call from the school, as cell phones weren’t yet a thing. He d never answer until at least 12 30.
Our son was left unattended in an apartment on a busy road for hours, while he slept. I voiced my concern about this many times in our appointments, the fact that I was overly concerned that our son may be able to work his way out of the apartment, onto a busy street and get seriously injured. It possessed my thoughts.
The therapists response?
‘If your son makes it out of his crib, and if your son makes it out of the apartment, and if he makes it onto the busy street, and gets injured or killed? It’s not happening on your watch, it’s not your responsibility, it’s not your problem’.
Sorry, what?
Don’t ensure my child is supervised? Safe? Fed? Clean diapers and clothes?
How fucking dare you. You have kids! Is t not a parents job to ensure the safety of their children?
I never went back to the therapist. No one counsels me to neglect my kids.
In future blogs, the marriage didn’t work, he married her and karma took care of the rest, and they messed with my kids brain so much over the years, the only oe that ever continued to show up for him is the only one to blame for everything in his life.
In other news, the therapist is divorced, multiple marriages. Surprise surprise. He’s at the top of his game though, still practising after 40 plus years. Wonder how many marriages he counselled like mine.
Fuck you John.
You are a terrible therapist.