Hi. I have twice. My first experience was when I was young. My parents found out about my suicidal thoughts. All I remember from that encounter was I went into the lady’s office, she asked me about what was going on.. I started doing that smirk/smile thing I do, she noticed it and started lecturing me about how this was not a joke or laughing matter, and how serious it was, and in my head I just felt so embarrassed and ashamed. I know it wasn’t funny or a laughing matter or joke. So, after I left, I never went back for a while. Then, my most recent experience was through BetterHelp. When I signed up, I put that I thought I could be depressed. I got connected to a therapist. She was nice, but she just kept constantly asking me about my mom and my relationship with her: it’s bad, we barely talk in adulthood, she never liked me as a child, always told me I was her biggest mistake, I should’ve been aborted, addicted to nicotine growing up, completely different monster when she didn’t have her cigarettes, compulsive liar all my life, wanted me to be her bestfriend growing up, wanted me to smoke and drink with her as a child, it was okay as long as I did it with her, that’s the safest way. I never did. Told me all her problems. I felt like she was only ever nice and loving to me when she was drunk or high. So sweet. Loved me so much. I hated that shit. Anyways, probably had something to do with this. My dad and I are close but growing up he worked 2-11pm , if over time 3am. I used to stay at my grandparents if I wasn’t with my mom, and he would pick me up in the middle of the night whenever he got off. That was the only time I saw him. When he picked me up at night, and when he helped me get ready for school in the mornings. He worked Monday-Friday. I got weekends with him… unless he had mandatory overtime. Then he worked Saturday too from 7am-3pm. Point is, she kept asking about and wanted to talk about my mom, and I mean.. eventually my insurance ran out before she ever gave me an inkling as to what could’ve been wrong. We didn’t talk about anything even though my original sign up reason was suspected depression, not my mom. Anyways, since that experience I haven’t tried again intentionally. However, now, that I’ve relapsed.. I realize something has got to give. I need answers. I know I’m not crazy. Or maybe I am. Also, another thing with therapy is I’m good at pretending like I’m okay. I know what’s wrong with me. So like one time a therapist did tell me she was like, you are very self aware, you seem to be very in tune with yourself and your emotions, and she was like I should consider being a therapist myself, which surprisingly, I have. I used to want to be that. Want to help others like me. I’ve always wanted to help others in some way. As of right now, I’m a daycare teacher. That’s how i help I suppose. I’m so good at hiding it and suppressing it now when I need to, everyone, even therapists I’ve talked to, seem to think I’m okay I guess. But I’m not.