This has been floating in my head...
I wish you knew
That I was nearly destroyed
By you.
Yes, you.
If you think I may be talking to you,
Then, yes, YOU.
You, who should have known better.
You, who know the difference between "danger to self or others" and "not doing very well at the moment".
You, who knew how depressed I was, and still wrote off my gratitude list as "making a joke out of it" instead of realizing how little I had to be grateful for.
You, who deliberately shared triggering art, made by YOU, as an exchange for some of my poems, when all I wanted was for you to read and understand.
You, who saw me dissociating, told me to "come back into the room", and never once thought to screen me for a dissociative disorder.
Yes, you.
If I thought you knew this, if I really thought you did, maybe you would still be on the list of therapists I tell my friends are worth trying.
If I thought you knew this, if I thought it would make one iota of a difference in how you treated future clients, I would come banging on your door to tell you all this.
But the last time I reached out, you didn't respond. You didn't answer.
You, who saw me crying, blowing my nose, with a terrible cold, and wouldn't believe me when I said "I can't breathe in from my nose" because literally, I couldn't.
You, who never believed when I said "I don't know", and didn't even consider the possibility that I really didn't.
You, who told my parents that they didn't protect me enough, in front of me, when I was clearly not ready for that.
You, who never even called to find out why I never made another appointment when I came back from a short trip.
Yes, you.
You, who called my mother down for a meeting without even trying to discuss the issues with me first.
You, who asked me to draw pictures and write so you could analyze them (duh) but didn't even tell me why I was called down to your office.
You, who tried to tell me what I thought and felt.
You, who didn't even recognize that I didn't hear a word you said, because I was so dissociated.
Yes, you.
You were the professionals. You were the ones who should have known, should have seen. I didn't have your education. I didn't know, because no one taught me.
You should have done the research. You should have said "wait, this doesn't make sense! what am I missing hear?"
You should have known.
I also wish you knew, however, how lucky I feel that I moved past you. That I stopped paying you tell me that I wasn't good enough, wasn't trying hard enough, wasn't moving forward enough. That I found people who kept digging until they found the root cause. Who didn't skip over parts of the DSM & ICD, but took all my symptoms into account, even the ones I couldn't name. I found those people. And you? You wouldn't recognize who I am becoming.
Because you never saw the real me.
And I wish you had.
