Day 10: Bits and Pieces

I can imagine myself sitting in the outer lobby "waiting room" of a psychologist's office.

Clipboard in lap, pen in hand, staring blankly at the questionnaire that requires I reveal things that I fully intend to make the person on the other side of the waiting room door "drag" out of me.

"This isn't fair! If I tell them everything on this piece of paper then how are they going to prove to me that they know anything? THEY need to tell me this if they want me to trust them!

I stare at the empty check boxes... Should I be honest? Should I withhold? Why am I here in the first place? Is this going to help? Nope.. so why am I here... yet again?

Seriously, why DO they ask all these questions up front? Is one of those office "managers" going to take a look at my answers and determine whether I am worthy of attention? Will I walk through the door into the "inner sanctum" only to find a straight jacket awaiting me dependent upon my answers?

And why ARE there so many questions that require me to answer exactly the same, although they think they are being tricky with different wording?

Question #11: Have you ever been the victim of abuse: (Check all that apply)

Physical Abuse - check
Verbal Abuse - check
Emotional Abuse - check
Sexual Abuse - check

Seriously... where is the "all of the above" checkbox?

Question #17: Please check all family members who are alcoholics

Mother - check
Father - check
Paternal Grandmother - nope
Paternal Grandfather - check
Maternal Grandmother - check
Maternal Grandfather - check
Maternal Step Grandfather #1 - check
Maternal Step Grandfather #'s 2-8 - check

Again... where is the "all of the above" checkbox?

This seriously feels like an invasion of my privacy! This isn't what I had imagined. I imagined a caring person, wanting to get to know me. Wanting to find out all of these things in due time. As I was ready to trust. You know... Quid Pro Quo. You show me I can trust you... then I reveal a part of my misery... then we work on it... deal with it... I feel better about it so I give you a little more of me... so we can work on it... deal with it, a wonderful loop, I continue to feel you care and want to help... you continue to get your funding... it's a win-win.

What? The State School system says I only have 3 sessions? At not even an hour per session (the timer always goes off at 45 minutes). So I'm supposed to completely trust you, divulge all my nasty misery and you are going to heal me in 3 hours... oh wait... my mistake... 145 minutes is only 2 hours and 20 minutes.

I walk up to the 12 inch long counter top and hand the woman behind the sliding window the clipboard and pen. She smiles a fake smile, and begins to skim over the blank sheet.

Before she can look back up to question I am out the door.