Therapy
Well, I just left my new therapist. My fourth therapist in four years. I had seen him like six times or so. (Another therapist I was with for a year, with no real progress.)
I don’t think therapy is ever going to work for me. Successful therapy requires trust in the therapist. But I’m smarter than therapists. I’m more balanced than them. I’m more insightful than them. Why should I trust them?
In fact, I don’t think I really trust anyone. I don’t actually know why, for sure. I’m not even sure where to start explaining it.
For me, being open with someone doesn’t create trust in them. I’m a very open person anyway, and self-revelation doesn’t leave me feeling vulnerable at all. There’s nothing anyone could do with that information that could hurt me. (With a small number of exceptions. About those things I am private, even with therapists, but only because I believe society unjustly stigmatizes those things.)
So what would leave me feeling vulnerable? I’m not sure, honestly. Well, an expression of admiration or love. Or a desire to spend time with them. None of which are really appropriate for a therapeutic session.
Can I learn to trust anyone? Do I really want to? Am I doomed to a life of solitude? Well, I’m capable of interacting with people, I just find it kind of awkward. Not awkward because of me, but because of them. I feel superior to them. I feel unappreciated, detached, and alienated from them. Unappreciated because almost none of my interests or beliefs are shared by almost everyone. So I look more like a crank, or some incredible unapproachable genius, to a lot of people. And I don’t think any of that is necessary, or inherent in my personality. It’s just reacting to their common, vulgar qualities.
Am I hopelessly arrogant? Very possibly. I have never viewed arrogance as a negative quality. At a certain point, it’s just obvious that (in certain ways) one is better than most other people, and to believe otherwise, or to act otherwise, would be foolish. That is the source of my arrogance. And in the company of my true peers, I don’t believe I am arrogant. At certain blogs, I’m pretty humble.
I have never been in a physical, real-life group in which I was merely average, or above average. I haven’t attended college (well, except for a semester). (You might say that it would therefore be a good idea for me to attend a competitive college, like MIT or Caltech or something. But I hate college—the pedagogy (I could write several posts), the outrageous expense, the stress. Plus I have a learning disability.) I haven’t been in any Mensa group, or any other sort of highly-self-selected group (outside of blogs, of course). I’ve tried a few meetup groups, but nothing that really made me feel part of a group. Nothing where I really felt I was among peers.
I pretty much hate this post. It doesn’t give me any new insight at all. Well, at least it’s a start.
October 7th, 2009 at 7:38
(You might say that it would therefore be a good idea for me to attend a competitive college, like MIT or Caltech or something. But I hate college—the pedagogy (I could write several posts), the outrageous expense, the stress. Plus I have a learning disability.)
You know, this struck something for me. Have you thought of looking for work, rather than attending, in or around a college that’s strong in the areas you’re interested in? When I was at MIT, there were always people vaguely in your situation, who had dropped out of college halfway through their sophomore years but were still around running some lab or other, or working for a startup that was closely integrated with the college. It seems like it might be a way to find the peer group without the negatives of enrolling in school.
(There is a problem in that the people I’m thinking of got into their positions by having been enrolled in school — it might be harder to get there from the outside. But it still seems like a niche that’s worth investigating.)