Fix Me, Dr.


I started counseling again yesterday. I don’t know what I expect to gain here, as my insurance only covers 12 sessions, but I knew that I needed to try. She told me that she wanted me to write down some goals that I have for this counseling thing, and to bring them next week. Goals?

Why I want you to fix me, ma’am! I want you to unwrap me from this defective package and give me a new one. I want to shine! I want to be cured! Those are my goals, can you do that?

Problem is, I’m pretty sure she won’t/can’t do that. She wants me to write things down like “I want to be less anxious,” or “I want to learn how to cope with my sadness in more productive ways.” You know, obtainable goals. Things she can actually try to help me with.

But I can’t…

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