I really did mean to write yesterday, but instead found myself thigh-high in frustration so thick you could scoop it with a spoon and was more than a little concerned that my head was going to explode! You see, in my oh-so humble opinion, I was given some seriously bad advice. I would try to explain it better, but I’m thinking’ there’s probably some kind of "person paying for bad advice - person being paid to give bad advice" confidentiality agreement or other such binding paperwork thingy I entered in to by failing (yet again) to read the fine print.
I will say that a break up with Therapy Lady is looking pretty immanent at this point. (Ya know, just as soon as I can find a replacement.) I only hope it goes better than my break-up with my former Chiropractor (aka Dr. Spinecrusher) did.
The night after I dumped his ass phone rang in the middle of dinner.
Dr. Spinecrusher- “Hi! I hope I’m not bothering you, but…I heard you stopped by the Office yesterday and cancelled your appointment. They said you weren’t coming back.”
Me- “Yes, well I…”
Dr.- "WHY!?! What happened? Where’d we go wrong? I thought we were getting along so well!"
Me- “Umm…it’s not you it’s me?”
Dr.- “I knew I was moving too fast with you.” *deep shaky breath* “I knew you were the one I needed to go slow with. I never meant to hurt you.” *sob*
Me- “Please don‘t be so hard on yourself. It really wasn’t you! There’s just so much going on in my life right now that I don’t have the time to put into this.”
Dr.- *long pause* “Do…do you think you’ll ever come back?”
Me- “I don’t know. I’ve just got so much on my plate. I’m truly sorry it had to end like this but look on the bright side, at least now you have more time for someone else who really needs you in their life.”
Dr.- *sniffle* “I guess. But, if you ever decide you’re ready to try again, I’m here for you!”
To be honest? I preferred the way the break-up with my former GP, Dr. X, went. I visited the Office and informed the nice lady behind the glass I wouldn’t be back. Things just weren’t like they used to be. I’d grown, he hadn’t, and we’d simply drifted apart.
I told her I was sorry, but I’d already found someone new. Someone who listened when I spoke. Someone who took into consideration my wants and needs. Someone who would view me as a valued part of our relationship and not just as another wide-eyed, awestruck little girl there to stroke his ego.
A month later I received a letter saying he refused to ever see me again. He apparently went to the school of You-Can’t-Dump-Me-Because-I’m-Dumping-You-First. (Even though I’d kicked him to the curb a full 30 days earlier.) I figured whatever helped him sleep at night was fine by me.
I’m thinking maybe this time? I’ll just send her a mix-tape.