conversation with my good friend Allison (the only friend who knows i go to therapy) on our way to skate me: you know i feel like i am supposed to be myself in therapy
allison: yeah, that's what therapy is about...
me: but I am not because i feel like my therapist would be appalled by my constant use of profanity and apathy for things like knee pads and helmets.
me: i feel like she would be appalled by photos containing nudity and tattoos and alcohol and how liberal my mind is. but then if she sees them i feel like she will think i actually partake in these activities, which one day i might, and judge me. it's only human.
me: and then i feel, what does it even matter because i feel like my dad just uses therapy as a way for him to manipulate into his way because the issues never really get solved. he usually gets what he wants and i am just made out to be the "awful" child with rebellious issues or the naive child who knows nothing then i just have to deal with it.
i anonymously moan and groan about my life, here. i don't capitalize the first letter of sentences and i don't use punctuation - most of the time.