I was as excited as anyone would be when their mother dragged them to a therapist.
A doctor by profession, mom said I was displaying signs of depression. I was about to join campus but I had not seen the sun in days.
I was hiding in my room, hungry, sad and embarrassed about the activities that I had been engaging in over the past year. I had allowed myself to get swayed and tricked by a man I met on the internet. Ivan as he called himself had successfully catfished me for more than 12 months.
I should have realised it sooner when I tried to video call him but his phone supposedly could not support such a function. There were other signs too, but that is water under the bridge. I tried the therapy route to healing but fair to say, I failed.
Mostly I blame my therapist and these are the reasons why:
1. Diversion from the main topic
The only reason I had not actively resisted the idea to get help was because I thought it would be a magic pill to make all my anguish vanish. Ivan had tormented my mind and injured my self-esteem. But my dear therapist did not want me to talk about that. Instead each time she would be digging about my past, assuming that something in my childhood had gone wrong. I just wanted to be heard, to forget this man that I despised so much but she really did not care to listen.
2. Asked me to Google and download a self-help book
After our second session, she asked me to download a book about steps to healing and immerse myself in it. Maybe her heart was in the right place but I just wanted to vent to someone, not read. And in any case, if it was as simple as that, why then was I paying Sh 2500 per session if I could just go on the internet and get a book? After that suggestion, I shut down and I wasn’t willing to talk to her. All the sessions up to the 10th are a blur. I can only picture her drinking coffee in the big black mug that was always in front of her.
3. Early morning sessions
Now that I think about it, home girl was setting me up for failure from the start. Why would she slot me in at 9 am when she knew very well the traffic I would encounter using two major highways, Thika road and Mombasa road to get to her office? Anyways by the time I was getting to my fifth session I was just exhausted. Plus, I was not seeing any results. Our conversations were repetitive and in the 45 minutes we met. I was tired; that I had to wake up at 6 am to get help and that I was going to say and hear the same old things.
4. Therapist focused on her trauma stories
During what became our final meeting with the 11th session miss ma’am thought it was appropriate for us to trade places. I was the one paying Sh 2000 for every meeting, yet she decided to instead use 20 minutes to tell me about her trauma. And worse, it did not even make sense. Apparently, as a child of one her shoes had been stolen and was returned 30 plus years later which had always made her wonder whether she was bewitched.
After seeing her for the last time, I went out and treated myself to a nice dinner with the therapy money before confessing to mom that I was no longer attending the sessions. Maybe therapy works but for me, it just did not. I decided to let the streets teach me. In any case I was joining campus and that I knew would be a great distraction.
*In the previous read, six lies I was told by my online boyfriend, we were introduced to a city girl who had missed all the red flags told by her virtual lover. In a span of 14 months, the man had gone from having diabetes to being dead and then resurrected. These events led city girl to therapy but that did not work out either. In the next read, she has decided that she is healed and ready to start over. In true Kenyan fashion, anaoga na kurudi soko.
Read how I was duped by online love here – 12 ways to protect yourself while dating online
Also read: Hii imeenda! Senator Ole Kina finally ‘accepts’ Ruto as president
Irony of Christian Religious Education teachers going on strike
LGBTQ celebrities who claim they were ‘cheated’ on by their ex-partners
