Things Not Taught to a Psychology Student or MFT by Rebecca Donaldson

I wish you could see what happened to me
They are things often not taught to a psychology student or MFT

My mother became a drug addict when I was three
And my father only did things for a fee

My mother wasnā€™t born this way
She used to sing and dance all day

Somewhere though, she fell into a hole
I think on that day she lost her soul

I really wanted a mom and still do
Even better, if I could, Iā€™d take two

I want one of those that plays with me like Ms. Honey
Who dances, laughs, and thinks that I am funny

Iā€™d buy one if I couldā€”a mother Iā€™d call mommy
Iā€™d live with her in New York City and eat pizza or pastrami

We would dance, play sports, and talk about my dreams
Weā€™d be close and make the best mother-daughter pair of all the teams

Things werenā€™t good when I was a kid
I donā€™t remember much of what I did

I was scared often of what dad would do to us
That Iā€™d hide in my room when heā€™d start to cuss

I learned how not to ask him for much
And to run when I heard his fist make a bang and such

I left one night at twenty-one
That was the night I ran away and said that I am done

I donā€™t know what itā€™s like to be cherished by a mom or dad
I donā€™t know it much at all, but it sounds quite rad

I wish mental health professionals knew what to do with adults like me
But Iā€™ve never much felt like any of them could really see

They gave me some label called ā€˜BPDā€™
And instead, they said that the problem is me

I donā€™t understand this because all I do is cry
They look at me though like what I say is a lie

I finally got a new therapist who says she believes me
She sits presently and never uses the term, ā€˜BPDā€™

She smiles at me with warm brown eyes
And when I talk about what a therapist did to me, she sighs

Sheā€™s a feminist just like me
I think itā€™s why she finally can see

Itā€™s because of her that I am unthawing and still here
And that I recently stopped walking around with so much sadness and fear

All I needed was someone to say what happened to me wasnā€™t okay
Just by my therapist doing this, I have started to find my way

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Mad in America hosts blogs by a diverse group of writers. These posts are designed to serve as a public forum for a discussionā€”broadly speakingā€”of psychiatry and its treatments. The opinions expressed are the writers’ own.

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