Conflicting Interests
After getting into therapy for depression, the burdens within my life began to lift, and I began to feel a lot less depressed and anxious. Although it took some time for me to find my “happy place”, The Expert seemed to be a great encourager. Since I viewed her as my best friend, I often told her about my therapy sessions. Eventually, this became more of a problem for me because, after all, she was the expert in wisdom whom I’d listened to regarding so many things, but there was someone new who had my attention: the therapist.
The Expert loved to study psychology and often interjected how little it seemed to her the therapist knew about handling my problems. Before long, I began keeping details about my sessions with the therapist to myself. Although I wasn’t sure whether The Expert was jealous of my growing therapeutic relationship with the therapist, I was sure that sharing the details of my sessions were causing problems for me with The Expert. She was nothing but critical about everything.
I did take note, however, that as my depression lifted and everything in my life improved that The Expert became more critical of me. She devalued me even more in ways that I did not understand. I went from being called her most loyal friend to her most vicious enemy. Accordingly, she said that I was an attention-seeking, envious person who made everything about me, but in my eyes, I was always there when she needed me to listen to her, to support her, and to keep her company.
Since I was single and child-free, The Expert was often critical of my lifestyle despite the fact that I didn’t date, worked incessantly, and spent most of my free moments at the church we both attended together. I didn’t really have a social life aside from the narcissistic church “friends” I sparingly hung out with after church services. I was basically a socially-awkward loner, but to her, I was deemed as selfish with my time and life even though I tried to always put her and others before myself.
When I did take time for myself, I was always tired, but The Expert would always emphasize that I was lazy and not putting forth much effort, particularly if I was too tired to spend any time with her. Yet, when I asked to spend time with her doing things that I wanted to do, my requests would be met with how inconsiderate I was of her time and needs since she had children, even though I always made time with her children when she needed a break to simply relax.
The Expert never failed to mention that she didn’t want her children to turn out like me. She didn’t want them battling mental illnesses. She didn’t want them to be single, childless adults. She didn’t want them to have the perception of success without having people around them. She didn’t want them to appear as freaks of nature even though she never made attempts to understand my neurodivergent traits.
In The Expert’s eyes, I had a multitude of problems that needed correction, and according to her, God had damned me to a life of painful isolation. Of course, I didn’t believe this. She didn’t even bother to learn my story. She knew enough about me, and what she knew she would often use against me when she was angry with me or in the accompaniment of others as a way to deflate me. There was no chance of me ever shining in her presence unless it was for show and she didn’t want anyone to recognize her angst against me.
Nevertheless, I worked to correct things about myself, and I tried to be a better person. I did a lot of spiritual assessment of myself during the time I was friends with The Expert. I reasoned that I was immature in a lot of ways. I did have a lot of growing up to do, but unlike The Expert was to me, I never tried to purposefully rain on her parade. I always tried to give her grace. I respected her, and I admired her strength. Yet, she wasn’t perfect by any stretch as much as she tried to portray her perfection to others, including me.
I saw through the cracks in her presentation, and eventually I saw enough to realize that the others she accused of being the “problems” in her life were not all at fault. She had a lot of issues too. In fact, I took note that the emotionally healthier I became from the time I spent in therapy, the more vocal I became with The Expert about our friendship. The more I also realized the engulfing divide that existed between us. Our journeys were not the same.
Check out the next post on more about The Expert.
My Voice Unchained 