An Example of Four Letter Word Therapy

This was in a journal entry from a 14 year old in the USA:

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i hate my therapists advice. i fucking hate the "just be happy." if it
was that fucking easy i wouldnt be upset now would i? if it was as
simple as just randomly becoming happy then i wouldnt cry. no one
would ever be upset. its not just a decision that you make and you
suddenly become happy. its not even a decision that you make then you
slowly become happy. its a whole slew of big and small things that you
need to do that are fucking hard and take effort and time and you very
gradually become just okay. and whole slew is an understatement.

the "yeah, its gonna be hard. but just work through it" one sucks too.
once again, if it was that easy i wouldnt be whining about it. its not
just decide to work through it and its one task. and if it was big
enough for me to bring up in the once every other month half an hour
appointment, i think it deserves bigger advice than "just work through
it."

the one that gets me mad is the "just do it. itll be okay. it wont
turn out like you think it will." does she honestly expect me to be
like, oh really? okay thanks! im not afraid at all now! i tell her i
am completely convinced that it wont be okay, that i absolutely know
itll turn out bad, and she just tells me it wont. we like debate over
it. its stupid. her saying it wont be like that isnt going to change
my mind. and regardless if she thinks the same thing as me, isnt she
supposed to help me feel better about it? not just debate me? i would
understand if she gave me reasons why it would be okay or tips to push
through it or something, but all she ever says is itll be okay and
thats not whats gonna happen.

ackkk. i hate her replies to the stuff i say. she never ever says
anything or suggests anything to help me. the most i get out of a huge
rant about something is a one sentence reply that makes me seem stupid
for being upset. its stupid. ive been going to her since last year and
she hasnt given me one thing to do to feel better. i basically just go
down there to rant and have her "check" on me. which just consists of
her asking if i want to hurt myself. which is stupid because if i
really wanted to i dont think id tell her, considering shed put me in
a mental hospital because its required.

i hate that phrase. hurt yourself. she uses it too much. so did the
doctors when i tried to ctb (catch the bus ie kill herself).
its like they're trying to make slashing
your skin open and downing pills and hanging sound like you got a boo
boo from the swings. and its too vague. it counts for both cutting and
ctb, which is stupid. just shows how much therapists know, though.
theyre all convinced if anyone under the age of 18 tries to ctb theyre
just looking to get out of the pain and dont want to actually die, or
they dont understand that if they're dead, they're dead. unless its a
spur of the moment thing, like getting dumped, teens understand that
dying=dying. its not too hard of a concept to grasp. ugh.

i cant stop thinking about how my therapist kicked me out of the
anxiety group. i went fucking two times. she knows i am extremely
extremely socially anxious. yet she expected me to go to an hour long
group two times and be cured of all my worries. the first time i went
i didnt say a word, except for when the leader forced me to answer
what the worst thing about myself was because he's a total dick and a
complete dumbass. great first question for the girl thats pale and
shaking just from being in the same room with new people, have her
announce what the worst thing about her is. i started bawling and told
him 10 times i didnt wanna answer and he finally gave up. second time
i went i talked a little more. we just did stupid coping skills, like
showering and drawing, for the whole hour. and i named some. which is
like a miracle for me. and they kick me out for being disrespectful
because i didnt talk. what the fuck. theyre so arrogent and stupid
they think that one time of being in the group i should be able to
shout out tons of answers and talk all about my life and shit. god
that pisses me off so bad. they dont know shit about therapy. they
dont know shit about why people feel the way they do. they dont know
shit about anything that has to do with psycology. and what they think
they know is completely wrong.

ack. if your a dumbass and you dont like teens and you look down on
people who are depressed and you expect everyone to be super happy,
dont get into a fucking field where you deal with depressed anxious
crazy people.

CC

CC,

I read your list. The five reasons you should die. And you know what.... You’re fucking right about most of it.

Martin Luther King. Mother fucking Theresa. Hell, if we are gonna go all “loveinaction.org” Jesus son of the Big Guy. But either way, no matter who the fuck inspires you, they’re gone but the good shit they did is still here because they knew that something does matter. And maybe it’s the copout “right thing” to do that matters, but I doubt it. But the reason we keep on living is because the meaning of being alive is leading a meaningful life for you.

If you can get just five people to stop eating meat, wearing leather, using animal-tested cosmetics, wouldn’t that give you meaning. Think of the number of animals that would we saved just by those five people.

You know that something matters and of course you fucking know it and I know that you do because if you didn’t know it then you WOULDN’T CARE. But you do. And all that you need to do is care about anything and then you have a reason.

CC in a way you are my fucking reason, I know that’s totally illogical because we haven’t even spoken online but it’s true. I care because even though I don’t know how you feel because I can never be you I know what it’s like to want to push the knife til it reaches your bone and I know the feeling of just wanting to go into early retirement (er) from it all. You say ctb, I say er. And I need to keep you alive until you don’t want to anymore because even if you are fucking miserable for another year there comes a point where it starts not to hurt so much and you start to care again.

You will think I am a total ignorant idiot when you read this but in a way I would be worried if you didn’t because I know how I felt when people told me it would get better. And this won’t help in the fucking slightest me saying this to you and I know it because it’s a cop out but you just have to get to this place all by yourself. So all I can say to you is please, don’t catch the bus just yet. Fuck, you can catch the plane to New Zealand instead. I know how much fucking good you can do and how much you still have to think and know and the point of the whole fucking ride is that by the end you know why you were on here to begin with. And I don’t think you’re ready to get off yet. I don’t think you’ve found your reason. Please don’t die.

Fuck your ex-best-friends. They are fucking retards and I hope they die, I truly do, because people like that will end up kicking their own teens out and making them end up like me.

It feels so good to not feel like shit every day and not want to hang yourself and just say             FUCK YOU ALL I DON’T FUCKING CARE ANYMORE I AM WHO I FUCKING WANT TO BE AND IF I LIKE TO SAY FUCK A LOT THEN WHO ARE YOU TO STOP ME LOL     and you can’t say to anyone that if you are gone. So all I’m saying is you have a fucking reason and that is to fin d a reason. Fuck fuck fuck.

Infinite swearwords,

- Cara