The first time I ever saw a psychologist was because my father threatened that he was going to hurt me and my traumatized mind thought he was going to be worse than my brother so I jumped off our 4th floor window. I was 12.
If this psychologist was any good she would have found out, from me, that my brother was terrorizing me and could have stopped it.
I mean... I bet I told her that yes, I was afraid of my father and that he hurted me before but she should have known there was more.
I wish I could find her and let her know what she missed out and that she failed me.
I found her. I got her name.
What am I thinking? She won't agree seeing me
I contacted her and she told me I could speak my mind. I told her everything but she did not answer anymore. I guess she saw it as an attack to her pride. Fine by me
