In November or so, I saw a friend and whined about how I could use some good therapy but therapists are few and far between, I'd need one who takes insurance or at least is affordable and doesn't do some quackery on the side because I wouldn't trust such a person... She said Oh, my friend is a psychologist, she works in the oncology ward but she can take outside patients, I'll mail her if she has a slot for you.
The therapist did have a slot, asked for a note from my shrink so that she could bill my sessions to the insurance and the limit for her is four hours per patient per day. Per day!!! Apparently, there're some different rules for the in-house therapists in the hospitals but I'm not going to look up the whys. It's good enough that I'm getting two or three hour sessions, during the usual one hour, one doesn't get deep enough into the problem du jour.
Something is working.
To start with, I developed emotions. Not that I hadn't had any at all but there was my cold, calculating brain, irony, sarcasm, lack of self-esteem, self-deprecation and occasional destruction of glassware. Then, others started happening. And my, I can't handle them. I've had more than two decades experience of keeping a straight face, pretending to be amicable and smiling at people when dying inside but now there's a shitstorm of something I haven't known. I started sorta liking people - I guess that I'll remain an introvert but not being scared of everyone is quite comfortable.
I decided to move away from parents, panicked at people for a few days and then I calmed down and started looking for a job and thinking about what to move first and I'm actually happy about it even though there will be a major conflict. I'm sure I'll manage it without actually throwing any glassware - note that I have never thrown any glasses at people, usually into the wall and then the Ikea glass was stronger than my office door and made a nice octagonal impression (*). I always turned my aggression towards ugly tableware or myself - and put this way, I did feel about as worthy as ugly tableware.
Speaking of ugly tableware, the other day, I looked at myself in the mirror, thought that I actually had quite a nice face and enjoyed the feeling instead of snarking back at myself. I'm growing self-esteem!
It feels weird and messy and scary. Especially when the damn brain gets high on dopamine or some such and I am unable to handle the storm. My mental templates do not work any more, the depressive patterns of thought are sorely lacking and I just don't have coping mechanisms. I tend to pile all that crap onto those few friends sensitive enough to listen and I feel so sorry for them... at a point, everyone will get a big box of chocolate, right?
(*) which was noticed by my mother who asked. I told her that I threw a glass but somehow, she didn't wonder why so I didn't get told off for being frustrated