Also, my life is so stupid I just made my therapist cry when I was talking about stuff. I was talking about the old rape or something and she starts tearing up and then crying and I was like, “Why are you crying?” and she said, “Your life,” and I said, “Is it really that bad?” Because I thought this was just growing up. Maybe not. Maybe I’m special in the worst way.
-Elissa Washuta, My Body is a Book of Rules
Side note: something similar happened to me when I was in college, and it had the awesome effect of me thinking that I was broken beyond repair (I mean, if my story was so fucked up that it made a psychologist cry, it kinda follows…) and therapy would never help me.