Last night, at relationship counselling, it was an absolute disaster.[br][br]So let’s just keep in mind the fact that one of the big issues I’ve clearly stated I have with George is that I don’t feel listened to or validated.  Last night, this counsellor (who I’d previously thought was quite good, particularly because he seemed to remain objective and not take either of our sides) interrupted me while I was speaking, twice.  The second time, it was like, okay I’m just trying to get out this ONE thing…wait wait, this needs a bit of background, I guess.[br][br]We brought up an example of the night before when we both got really stressed out over our washing machine breaking and everything that ensued from that.  Then there was this near-argument afterwards, which I really considered to be the main problem.  This counsellor though kept talking about our needs when we were stressing over the broken machine, and George kept repeating, ‘Our needs were only to get the machine working, this isn’t some deep emotional thing,’ but he wouldn’t stop harping on about this silly thing.  I kept trying to say really the issue is what happened after that initial problem.[br][br]So George gets to speak as long as he wants, explaining his side of the story, what happened that evening.  In my view, it was a total distortion. I’m shushed every time I try to explain my side, until FINALLY exasperatedly I just decide to jump into the next gap in speech and start talking, because no one is letting me speak.  So I say, ‘May I please tell my side of the story?’ and I’m granted ‘permission’, so I start, and I’ve only been talking a few minutes (after waiting maybe 10-15 mins to talk at all) and the counsellor interrupts me and starts giving his view on everything, without listening to my point about what happened after, about the actual crux of the problem.[br][br]Well, I didn’t take well to this at all, so I kept speaking, and George physically stops me – puts his arm out to me and stays me, and says, ‘Vrinda, just let the man speak.’ I was furious.  I pointed out that HE had interrupted ME and I hadn’t finished – and while I’m saying this I get talked over by both George and the counsellor – George irritably says he feels like the session time is being wasted and just wants to get on with things, so he wants me to stop talking – so now I’ve been flat out told that me explaining my side of things (after letting him talk for ages about his side and having to sit and listen to them discuss me like I’m not in the room to hear them, when I know parts of it are distortions and entirely unfair anyway) is wasting his time.[br][br]Can I express how frustrated I am over this?  No. Because every time I try to speak, I’m talked over – not just that, but the counsellor actually physically turns to look directly at George and both of them are talking, completely ignoring me.  Eventually, George even is getting frustrated with him, and he says, ‘I think Vrinda has some things she wants to say,’ – but what kind of hypocrisy is that??  How can he say that, as if he wants me to speak, when just before he was endorsing this man interrupting me, on the grounds that I was wasting time?  In fact, afterwards George even told me I was being off-topic and irrelevant.  No I wasn’t!!! Maybe I was off HIS topic, but I was on MY topic, because both of us had different perceptions of what went wrong, and to tell me repeatedly over the years that what I’m saying is irrelevant is just such an invalidation of my entire view on things and my right to speak.  I’m constantly shut up, and I keep saying – THIS is what MAKES me so out of control!  If you just let me speak first of all, I might be a bit heated but I wouldn’t be having violent aggressive urges and I wouldn’t be shouting and hurting myself.  It’s not even theory – I’ve read it in so many BPD books: the out-of-control-ness of BPD can be explained as being biologically predisposed to feeling emotions more strongly than the average person, and then being continually told it’s wrong and being invalidated so that you can never express those feelings properly.[br][br]So literally 45 MINUTES go by with me not being able to speak.  It was like I was invisible. In fact, I even said that, and no one paid attention to it or responded to it.  I spent the whole session fighting off the urge to pick up my bag and walk out of the room.  Then afterwards I thought: why did I need to fight that urge?  Just because I thought it was a BPD urge? But really, wouldn’t ANYONE feel like doing that, BPD or not?  I was being horribly mistreated, I’m sure by anyone’s standards. I don’t think this is a subjective viewpoint, it’s just a fact.  What the hell kind of counsellor does that to someone, especially when they know a big problem for that person is a feeling of not being listened to?[br][br]I wound up turning my whole body away and staring at the wall with my arms crossed.  Finally, in the last few minutes of the session (what a waste of what little time I have each evening anyway, not to mention time with our son and the money spent on his childminder watching him for two hours, plus the cost of the pizza I got afterwards as comfort food), the counsellor asked if I had anything I wanted to say.  I wouldn’t look at him, I was so disgusted. Honestly, I was disgusted that George didn’t make more of an effort to defend me, too.  If the situation had been reversed, I would have loudly cut right into what the man was saying and told him how extremely rude he was being.  I mean, it’s one thing to sit passively and let people talk without you, but I kept TRYING to join into the conversation and speak my part, and I just got spoken over and not looked at.  I just don’t know how to express how completely shut out I was.[br][br]So I told this to him.  My voice was quiet and even and monotone and deep, and I was very laconic (which I only ever am when I’m really pissed off).  He said he respected my right to feel that way, although he wasn’t going to apologise.  I really wanted to slap him for that. What the hell kind of therapist BS is that?  And he absolutely should have apologised for it.[br][br]Afterwards, George was in agreement with me about being angry at the counsellor, but I just didn’t know how to make him understand that it was only an exaggeration of how I often feel with George, when we argue.  It’s not some everyday thing, but when we try to ‘sort things out’ I definitely end up feeling it too many times.  And really I’m here now thinking: do we bother going back to see this man next week?  Because I feel like next week it’ll start with me trying to resolve an argument with the therapist, which has nothing to do with George and me, and really I know I’m in the right so why the hell should I have to sort it out with this guy?  It’s just so disappointing because I thought it was helping before.  George doesn’t because he thinks a therapist should give you answers and solutions and fix everything for you, whereas I think therapists help you work out what the real problems are, underneath everything, and help you figure out your own solutions.  Our last relationship counsellor, two years ago, she was useless. She gave us handouts with solutions for how to converse properly and politely, and it was handled like ‘here’s the script to follow’ and I always said that was insane, I was definitely not going to feel cared about and like my needs were being met if George recited a script at me.  He seemed to feel that was a better approach than this time around.  He brought it up yesterday, even, and I was like oh right, because she was great wasn’t she, the woman who said ALL our problems were due to me growing up in a family of domestic violence.  You could so easily tell what kind of psych student she was at university, getting all the As on her papers but having no instinctual understanding of people.[br][br]Not just that but it turned out George was still angry at me for the night before, even though from my view we had talked it out and sorted the problem and we had agreed it had been a silly misunderstanding exacerbated by stress, and he was being affectionate and sweet to me afterward – so really I’m feeling like everything he says to me is a total lie.  When he says he’s happy and loves me and I’m amazing, give it two weeks or two months or two years and he’ll suddenly be telling me actually he’s been miserable that whole time and pissed off at me about something.  Not to mention the fact that he lied to me about some things about his past, when we first met, and carried on the lie for two years, then I caught him out and he told me another story that turned out to be a lie again and I only found out some weeks ago, and the following day I found out THAT new story was a lie as well.  It’s not really anything to do with US, but it’s the principle of the thing.  Then I listen to him tell his side of the story at these sessions and he conveniently omits anything he did, and even states over and over that he spoke to me ‘very calmly, not stressed out at all’ and I’m like what!?  Since when!? And portrays me as this crazy woman who just flies off the handle over nothing, with zero provocation.  That’s a total lie as well. I just…I don’t trust him, I guess.[br][br]And it hurts so much because I love him to bits and he’s the only person I want.  But God, I just don’t trust him. I don’t trust him to be honest with me at all.  The amount of complaints he makes about me…but you know, I may be emotionally high-strung, I may have my crazy moments, but at least I’m always telling him what’s on my mind, talking about my problems, seeking help for them, reading all these books to try to get some ideas for how to manage things, at least I’m always there being open with him and honest.  I don’t care how ‘calm’ he imagines he is – his secrets and lies are worse than anything I do.