#therapy session 1

[ayda--demir]

First Therapy Session - Nov 23, 2022

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Ayda sinks into the plush cushion of the couch, a leg crosses over the other, her fingers laced together and resting on her lap. The toe of her heel taps along with each tick of the clock. 

“I know asking for help is the hardest step. You should be proud of yourself Ms. Demir for taking those steps. Today we will go at your pace.” Dr. Celik assures her, a notebook on his lap and a pen in his hand. 

She had promised Nevra that she would go to therapy to help deal with her issues. The Turk was willing to give this a try for her friend. Doing it for someone else was never the right step, but it was the gentle push that she needs to finally deal with everything that consumes her. 

Her nails start to pick at the tailored suit dress pants she is wearing, the nerves settling in. Now given the opportunity to talk freely about what lay on her chest had her freezing up. Opening up was something she rarely did. Ayda suffered in silence, not wanting to burden others. That was what started her alcohol problem. 

There was one person she needed to let go, but she wasn’t ready to speak about him. That was too personal for her to open up about first. 

The brunette takes a deep breath, both her feet moving flat on the ground, palms rubbing up and down her thighs and she sits straight. 

“I think the easiest to start with is my family.” She pauses for a moment, her eyes looking at him before she looks away. “I come from a Turkish family, which I am sure you could have assumed. I am the youngest of five and I have four older brothers. You can imagine how protective they can be.” She honestly was shocked they let her and Berat be together. Perhaps they saw how he protected her from the altercations they ran into growing up. 

“Two years ago I started my own path and moved away from the family business. For the most part they understood that it wasn’t for me and let me go. I was able to open my own business and start something that was solely mine.” She wasn’t going to mention it was the business she and her ex planned to open when they left the gang life.

She heard the scribbling of pen on paper, wondering what notes he was taking. The brunette was trying not to feel like he was judging her. It was his job to listen and help her work through her problems. 

“How did they feel about it, when you told them you were going down your own path?” His hand came up to remove his glasses from his face and place them down on the table beside him. 

“My Pa, I don’t think he was too pleased with it. Part of me wonders if he was grooming me to take over the family business. Which I find odd, considering my oldest brother was better suited at it.” Hasan had the drive and desire for gang life. “I am a disappointment to him. He has told me a few times.” She shrugs her shoulders at him. It was the truth. That was why he was probably trying to marry her off. 

“What about your mother? How did she feel when you told her this?” He asked. 

Ayda had to think about that. Her mother, she knew the woman loved her, but wasn’t the most affectionate. “She wasn’t the softest woman. My ma, she complimented my father very well. She may not have liked some of his choices, but they shared the same passion. I feel that is what made them strong.” The Turk was always the odd one out of the family, no matter how hard she tried to fit in, she still stood out. 

“She was disappointed, too. She might not have voiced it like my pa, but I could see it in her eyes.” Her gaze glances down at her lap. “Hasan was the only one who understood that I didn’t fit into that world, and when I was ready to finally take that step out, he helped me.”

Dr. Celik nods his head, going to write more down in his book. “Do you still talk to your brother?”

“Yes, more so recently. He likes to check in with me. I have started to go back to family dinners and my father ambushed me with an ultimatum.” Her voice trails off. 

“And what is that?” He replies, looking at her when she finally looks back up. 

“I have a year to get married, otherwise he will arrange one for me. It is common in our culture, but to me, it feels like he’s giving it another attempt to pull me back into something I don’t want.”

“Why don’t you tell him no?” 

Ayda snorts and shakes her head. “One does not simply say no to Mehmet Demir. And if I did, I would no longer be welcomed in the family. I don’t think I’m ready for that step.” She knew Hasan would always be there for her, but no matter how cruel and fucked her family was, they were still her family. 

“There is your dilemma. Why do you feel you need their validation? You are a grown woman who can make her own choices in life.”

Why did she feel like that would be something some would say? One face in particular who mentioned that they couldn't escape their name. 

There was this sudden urge to punch the doctor in the face, not that she would ever do it.

“They are my family.” She retorts, knowing damn well that wasn’t a good enough answer. 

“Is that how a family should treat each other? Forcing you to do things you do not want?” He asked her. She was starting to hate his fucking questions. Everything he said to her was in the form of a question  when she wanted solutions.

"No. It isn't." But my family is not a normal fucking family. She left that part out. 

"Then why do you let them control you like that?" His tone is neutral, making a few notes.

Her body grows rigid and she sits up, going quiet. He doesn't say anything to her, giving her time to process what he asked of her. 

It was a question that haunted her. She was thirty years old and capable of living her life the way she wanted. 

Five minutes passed and she finally found the words. 

"There is no working things out with my family, especially my ma and pa. If I refuse, and turn my back, I will be seen as a traitor. And given my last name, it will follow me around." She takes a deep breath. "I'm afraid of being alone. The last time I was, I turned to drinking heavily." 

"Ah, and you are afraid what might happen to you if you do? Not with your family, but you." A smile etches into his features, feeling like he was getting somewhere with her.

"Yes."

"Then that is something we can talk about. Finding you a support system if you decide to go that route. It is not something you have to decide now. It would be best that you take some time and really reflect on what your values and goals are now, not then. Letting go of the past is hard, but necessary." His eyes flicker up to the clock. 

"It seems that is the end of our session for today. You did well Ayda. I will see you in two weeks."

She nods her head and stands up. "Thank you Dr. Celik. I'll think about what we talked about." Could she finally give up her family? Was she ready to be seen as a traitor?

[yuspne]

[rb9]

someone check on nico rosberg, lewis forgot how to say good morning in german

[thermodynamic-comedian]

the thing is that if jonathan sims and sydney sargent met, i do not think they'd get along. it'd be like epic rap battles autism vs. adhd. sydney would take one good look at jon and go "this man has zero sense of whimsy and fun i want him dead" and jon would take one good look at sydney and go "this man is dead. who did this. is he an avatar. i am scared get me out of this fucked up summer camp"

and if jonah magnus and elijah volkov met, it'd be a whole different kind of disaster. it would turn psychosexual before you can say sigmund freud. and they would both be hypocrites about it too just thinking "damn this bitch is crazy. i'm so glad i picked the correct religion, unlike her" about each other the whole time.

but if gertrude robinson and lucille bertuccelli met, it would be the best thing to ever happen to both of them. they would be best friends without ever expressing a single emotion towards each other. if they met, the world might go up in flames, though.

[aj-lenoire]

THE NEW BOYFRIEND IS THE THERAPIST???

AS IN THE RELATIONSHIP THERAPIST WHO TED EXPLICITLY MENTIONED WAS MICHELLE’S PERSONAL THERAPIST FIRST???

THAT THERAPIST???

HEY ASSHOLE IT’S FUCKING ILLEGAL TO SLEEP WITH YOUR CLIENTS

[yardsards]

pour one out for all the ocs made for trrpgs that got cancelled after just a couple sessions, especially if said character is so intrinsically linked to the setting that they can't be used anywhere else

[devilsskettle]

going from not having friends at work but liking the people i work with to having friends at work to not really having friends at work and not really liking the people i work with …… kind of terrible. i used to be kind of happy to go to work, and now it’s like. just miserable for my whole day every day

[skitskatdacat63]

2023 Monaco Grand Prix - Post-Qualifying - Fernando Alonso

[briar--rising]

Extensive non-graphic discussion of suicide (I'm fine, I'm not suicidal, don't worry). Also lots of maternal enmeshment talk

Therapy today was rough. I'm doing so much better in so many ways, but that doesn't mean the trauma is gone lol. I do so well in early spring, and then May and June comes and I can taste death in the air. I won't let it pull me under this year, I refuse to spiral into long-lasting psychosis and lose my progress until next February again. But it's still difficult.

My mother is. Fucked up. Obviously. But something that I realized in today's session was that her dream scenario is still the two of us committing suicide together in the end. And that's. Well. It feels bad.

A few weeks ago she brought up again how she wants to commit suicide when she gets very old/sick, or if the world goes to a very bad place. And the reason she insists on bringing this up with me is that she's very clear that it will be my responsibility to make sure she gets the assisted suicide she wants someday. Basically, asking me to kill her one day. And today was the anniversary of my uncle's suicide, and in about a month it will be the anniversary of my mom's suicide attempt when I was 11, and so it's all just...been on my mind. And we talked today in therapy about how the fact that my mom attempted suicide shortly before my birthday was especially damaging for me, and how basically being the one to find her that day but then not being allowed to see her for a while in the hospital once she woke up was deeply traumatic. And it's all just. Tangled together in my head.

I've known for years that I'll be in charge of making sure my mom gets the assisted suicide she wants, she's made that very clear to me. And I do not want that responsibility, but I just always knew/assumed it would be my job. And I was talking about that with my therapist today and she was like "I think it would be very dangerous for you to do that. You will always have a tendency towards psychosis, and there is already so much tangled up in you and your mother and annihilation and death and loss of self, and I do not think it will ever be safe for you to help her with that." And I realized she was right, but it literally hadn't occurred to me that I was allowed to not be the one to help with that? But like. I don't have to. A friend of hers can do it. My brother can do it. Someone, anyone who isn't me can help her find a doctor and get what she needs someday. I do not have to kill my mother. I do not have to kill myself.

Because I know in her dream scenario we'd do it together, and/or my doing it for her would push me to do it to myself. First of all, she's literally suggested it before. Second of all, she cannot cope with or even begin to comprehend the fact that I am separate from her and that I would dare to live without her. We were talking today about how my mom's relationship feels almost parasitic, like she's drawing on me to sustain herself, and how I was worried that by cutting her off and having increasing boundaries I was hurting her by taking away her access to her life force. And my therapist was like, "No, because those boundaries are real for you, but not for her. Consciously she sort of accepts them, but in her mind you are still completely enmeshed. What do you think would happen if you asked to move back in with her?" And I was like, "She'd be thrilled, she'd start working towards it immediately." And she was like, "Exactly. If she was developing the type of boundaries you are, she would have reservations about her adult child moving back in. But she doesn't have any of those boundaries, and still believes and feels you to be as close as you were, so you're not hurting her by having those boundaries internally, because she will never be able to share them or even truly understand that you have them." So that was helpful, if disturbing in its own way. Bc it also made me realize how deeply enmeshed we still are on her end, and how clear it is from that and from several things she's said over the years including quite recently that she wants us to kill ourselves together someday.

But I won't. I refuse. When she wants to die she can find someone else to help her manage it, and I will not be joining her. I will not let her annihilate me in life or death.

[martyrbat]

“What? Are you saying it was all some kind of screwed-up therapy session?” “What other therapy would Cassandra understand? She grew up with no human contact apart from violence. Fighting is her language, Barbara. The core of her being... of her soul. She had things she needed to get off her chest. And so did I.” “You're crazy.” “So they say. But it works.”

[ID: two photos from the 2000 comic Batgirl. The first is from issue one and has Bruce Wayne and Cassandra Cain in their respective costumes with their cowls on. They're standing on the rooftop of Oracle's clocktower and are looking out into the city skyline. Bruce tells Cass, “One rule—no costumed criminals. Oracle will tell you what that means. As for the rest... it's all yours. Remember. On those streets, you... are me. You can start whenever you... uh...” He awkwardly trails off as Cass unexpectedly puts their hand gently on his cheek and stares up at him. Bruce tells them, “That's... really not necessary...” before Cass leaps off the building with their grappling line, eager to begin.

The second photo is from issue 50. The bridge they were therapeutically fighting on just exploded and Bruce dove into the water to grab Cass and pull them into safety. They sit together on dry land without their masks, with Cass laying their head against Bruce's chest as he has his arm around her securely. Cass tells him, “He (David Cain) never let me touch him... hold him... just fighting and hurting...” Cass sits up as they keep a hand on his chest, Bruce holding it as Cass continues, “You hurt me, too... When you sent me away.” Bruce asks, “I need to know once and for all where your loyalties lie, Cassandra. With your father?... Or Barbara?... Or me?” Cass points to the bat emblem on his chest and answers, “No. Not you. This.” END ID]

[dykenav]

[this post is about the succession SEASON ONE finale bc I’m ten years behind]

anyway like the way denial was the emotional undercurrent of everything in this episode…. starting with tom telling greg to shut up so he can block out the truth of shiv’s infidelity, to roman and the launch and just immediately shutting it off and pretending like it didn’t happen, and us as the viewer feeling the absolute horror realizing that people could have DIED, and seeing the utter disconnect in Roman, watching a livestream on his phone like it’s a video game, going back into this huge fucking party, the party itself being the physical place to symbolize the utter isolation and social disconnection of the filthy rich from the rest of the world. the tension building while we’re like jesus christ did he fucking kill people?? and then he finds out oh no, it’s just two thumbs and an arm, what a RELIEF, and we as the viewer vicariously accepting that relief as a lesser horror while still seeing the horror. the way it mirrors the horror of the first episode when roman rips up a fucking MILLION DOLLAR check in front of a poor kid. reminding us that while we might relate to their human foils and emotions, the absolute SCALE of their faults and ignorances have such massive, unfathomable consequences by virtue of their power. and then you have. fucking kendall. and the kid in the car. and it’s the exact same situation. and the thing that makes it so fucking VISCERAL is that it doesn’t jump cut to the next day. we stay with him the whole fucking time as he walks away from that scene. we watch him break back into his hotel, wash himself like fucking lady macbeth. make his way back to the party. dance with his fucking kids. the dissonance is so fucking strong. it’s like coming back to omelas after seeing the tortured child. what can you do but pretend? and tell me you haven’t fucking been there before. tell me you haven’t been at that party, where something horrible and unspeakable is happening inside of you but you have to dance and smile anyway. we all know what it’s like to be in denial. it’s human. and yet the consequences of these people’s denial, by virtue of their power, is so vast and sickening, that it becomes inhuman. they’re not inherently evil people, but the circumstances of their wealth and privilege takes their shortcomings and corrupts them into poison and bombs. all of that accumulating to logan psychologically exploiting kendall in his moment of trauma, kendall breaking down and crying like a kid, and of course he would, ANYONE would, but he’s not anyone, these people aren’t anyone. I don’t mean they’re not human, I mean the opposite. they are human children playing an elaborate game of pretend with the rest of the fucking world as their dolls. they’re not masterminds. they’re toddlers demanding to be loved and blowing shit up in the process. and it’s easy to watch and say, wow that is so fucked up. but who am I if I act like I can fully separate myself from this story and be like “welp, anyway! back to bed!” without recreating that same denial? who are any of we to act like we’re not in some way complicit to the horror of the world when in order to function and live our lives we have to completely compartmentalize the part of our brain that comprehends the news? I’m not saying a normal person is in any way shape or form as responsible as a billionaire, nor am I saying there’s any moral answer to this. I’m just saying……….. fuck

[yepthatsacowalright]

[x]

[burningarchitecture]

Killing must feel good to god, too. He does it all the time

[b-blushes]

i am feeling very apprehensive about it due to feeling Not Well (chronic illness style) BUT tomorrow i'm gonna pump up the tyres on my bike and do 5 very gentle non-out-of-breath-making minutes on my turbo trainer inside.... that is not even 2 songs' length i can totally do that and there is no need to be so so scared! If i can do it, then huge yippee and i can work on trying to hit a once a week routine, in which i can gradually increase the duration and intensity over time, and if i CANNOT. well then i know that i am not doing good which is also useful info to have and to tell my dr when i go soon (: I CAN DO IT!!!

[azrail-has-a-vendetta]

my college gives you free therapy however you only get six sessions for free. So imma speed run therapy

This is the start of my presentation on all the trauma from my childhood to teens :)

[possiblyhumanbeing]

My mom: “you can always talk time about your mental health and I’ll do anything I can to help!”

My sister: *tells her about her numerous mental health issues*

My mom: “I will literally pay you to NOT get therapy”