Day 46 - Therapy

So last week I met my new Therapist - I am saying this without sounding like an absolute Cunt you understand. Apparently I have health anxiety,obsessional thought disorder (like OCD but with thoughts and no soap) and a form of post traumatic stress. Trust me I am not as mental as I sound and valium does a great job. Turns out it is all my mothers fault  - very freudian.
  My GP having met Summer suggested I go and talk through my issues with someone who has more time, and gives a shit. Summer and the GP arent friends since her last booster jab when Summer exclaimed after jab one of three in a row '' Are you serious man! what is wrong with you bruv?!! dont touch me, I swear. you best leave me'' as she barricaded herself under his desk.
But they decide that I need therapy and not her.
 I am in this badly decorated room, sat next to a box of man sized tissues. The therapist is young, looks like she eats a raw veg diet and from her reactions to my comments is clearly childless.
''Are you feeling happy today'' - yes
''Are you suicidal today'' - can you be happy and suicidal? - no, no I am not suicidal, As you know I have a fear of death, the last thing I am going to do is gas myself in a car. no matter how many times Summer says I should try it.
''Do you think your scared of dying because it means leaving Summer'' errrr no, actually at times that would be a positive, the thought of sleeping for eternity without Summers foot up my vagina is quite appealing
''have you and Summer done some positive bonding this week?
 do I tell her about the vibrator massage incident? ''Not much I have been tired, we went to the park at the weekend but that's about it''
she screws up her face and scribbles, ''thats a shame, did you not want to go out anywhere else?, we could set you a goal for next week, you should take her to Lego Land or Chessington or maybe have some of her friends round, or the Zoo''
Yes thats fabulous, youre a genius, I am cured, I should go to bloody Lego land. I have worked my arse of all week to the point of exhaustion, I have no money in the bank, and you want me to drive to fucking Windsor to get wallet raped by a bunch of plastic figures.
''No thanks''
''you should try being more spontaneous'' -you should try having a kid and being a working mum
''tell me do you feel anxious around Summer ?'' yes ! who doesnt? I am on constant flight or fight mode around the girl, do you know what it is like having your tits grabbed at any given moment, the fact that she can talk for 3hrs straight and when she runs out of real words she just makes them up, words, words words, do you know what its like being touched constantly by her feet, her launching at you for no reason, her randomly farting on you, throwing piss at you for god sake, piss!,you think that behaviour creates and air of calm!!! do you!!!!!!!!!! do you wonder why I have to breathe into a paper bag three times a day!!!!!
She starts scribbling again- she says maybe when I resolve my issue,s my parenting experience will be improved. but what if your issues are the child.
She sets me a long term goal - ''why not have a party for Summers Birthday and invite her whole class'' why not fuck off , sure her whole class, all 30 of them and the Per Una cunting mothers whom I just frigging love. I will take 5 of them without there parents to like McDonalds or something and expect some decent presents in return.
I have homework, therapy homework,'Go on do something spontaneous with Summer'' ok I will throw piss at her for a change.