I’m not your friend. That’s what I wanted to shout. I held it in though. Too afraid to make a scene, too afraid to let the counselor know how much I was hurting. You shouldn’t care how I treat myself, that I want to cut myself, that I want to hurt myself, that I want to kill myself. You are a counselor, not a friend. You can’t be both.
I have problems with boundaries. I want to tell someone so bad the stuff inside of me. Trust is a big issue with me. But there comes a point in time where the trust issues are void—they don’t matter near as much as the feelings of wanting to be accepted.
Only I won’t be accepted, and I know that. So I push the “friend” away. It’s a constant tug of war within me. Pushing the person away only to try to win their friendship back again. I know it makes no sense. Nothing much in my life does.
If they get too close, I have to accept that maybe I am likeable. Maybe or not. Maybe they just have bad tastes in friends. Maybe they are just trying to hurt me. And I deserve to be hurt. Maybe they are trying to get some sense of satisfaction over “curing” me. Well, I can tell them this now, to save them from the hurt of finding it out later, that I can’t be cured. Whatever beast is inside of me won’t ever leave, and I will feel this way the rest of my life. It’s a scary thought, but one I must learn to live with.
I want to be the counselor’s friend. I want him to be my friend too. But it is impossible. When the relationship ends, I try to convince myself that the counselor is dead, but they are not. I know that deep inside and it tears me up. What did I do that they don’t love me anymore. How can I win that caring back? I wish I could do something to win back their love, but I can’t. I must have done something terribly wrong for them to not want to talk to me anymore. To be lucky to get a one line response to an email every now and then. The closest thing to a friend I have is a counselor, and I have to pay for that friendship.
But that’s ok. I don’t deserve the friend, the counselor, to feel happy.