Bad Experience

My normal counselor, Joe, had back surgery 2 weeks ago, so he obviously can't see me for a while. He should be back in about 3 more weeks. So, before he left, he talked to another one of the counselors here on campus to see if she'd talk with me while he was gone. After 2 weeks of her trying to contact me, I reluctantly agreed to go. Well, it didn't go well. I didn't want to go, so I was answering questions with one word answers. She asked me what I was going to do after graduation. I told her mission work in Romania. She looked at me like an idiot. That's when it started going downhill. Then she brought up the cutting, so I started to shut down. She tried to talk to me a little bit about it. Then she asked when the last time I did it was, I reluctantly answered and then she asked to see where I'd done it a few weeks ago. I didn't want to show her, so she asked again. I was EXTREMELY hesitant, but I showed her my arm. Then she started asking dumb questions about it. Did you draw blood? Well, yeah. That's kind of one of the reasons I do it. Plus, those scars are way to big for there to have been no blood. It only got worse. About 20 minutes into it, she asked if I would give her my blades. I said not yet, but in my head I thought, "You don't know anything about me. Hell no." She looked at me kinda surprised. That's when I completely shut off. The nasty physical feeling of wanting to cut began running through my arms and legs. In my head, I knew that when I got back to the house, I was going to cut (which I haven't and won't. I promised my friend Maggie that I wouldn't).

The only reason I initially agreed to see Joe was because in our first session, he promised to NEVER ask for my blades, ever. And in a few sessions, he's told me that if I was going to cut, at least be safe about it. I respect Joe a lot for that. When I get rid of my blades without actually being ready, it always ends up REALLY bad. Like, all out panic attack. Poor Fr. Rick has seen it 3 or 4 times. I start shaking, my heart races, I can't breathe, it's a mess. Joe knows that if I'm not ready (which, on 2 different occasions, I have given him my blades, but then eventually gone out to get more), things only get worse. He'd rather I take a step backwards instead of like 10, which is what happens if I'm not ready.

It just ticked me off. I'm not going back to counseling until Joe gets back. I know I can do this with the help of my friends and the Lord until Joe comes back. I'll be fine.