I think therapy is pretty much useless.

Alright, that’s a huge lie. But in all honesty, what I’ve learned in the past 3 months working in a mental facility is that words are mostly used for manipulation. They’re a tool to get what one wants. It’s interesting to see the system at work - it runs mostly on superficial statements, medication, concequences of adverse behavior, and pepto-bismol pink walls. You work there on a day-to-day basis, anywhere from 9 to 18 hour increments. If no one has blown up, it has officially been a “good day”. You are victorious.

I guess what I’m getting at here is a feeling of helplessness when you know that someone is telling you something they think you want to hear because they feel like it will benefit them, and that 99% of the statements that they spout off today will be because of that. The only thing you can count on to be true is the “fuck you, bitch” they yell when you call them out on it. It’s the bad days when things are actually accomplished. The arguing, the escalating, the screaming, the hitting, the restraining, the crying, the loosening of muscles, the talking, the comforting, the letting go. The days of therapy afterward where they try to figure out and cope with why that happened and how to better deal with what set them off. They’re back to having good days. They don’t blow up. Sure, 99% of what they say is to get through the day because they feel like they have to say it to “get out of here”, but at least they have that one thing figured out now. They are victorious.

You ever notice that when you’re at your worst, you usually end up learning something important about yourself? You can play at learning all you like, but until you’re tested, you don’t really know.

I’ll take a lifetime of frustration, manipulation, and “fuck you, bitch”s for one well adjusted kid. The end.