I regret going to therapy, and not because anything changed

I don't say it in a cutesy, "it changed my life in all the right ways teehee" manner. To be honest, I've needed mental care since I was a kid, like so many who went through the shit I did. As an adult, I was made more and more aware of it, but only sought it out when I became a full time caregiver to my narcissist mother.

Things got dark, fast, and I realized I was starting to spiral, so I used a program through my work to access emergency sessions with a professional. At first it was great, but as sessions continued, and I did the homework, the readings, the research she asked of me, I felt dread.

Nothing has changed, I'm just more aware of the abuse, more aware of how easily I accept mistreatment from people who matter to me. I apologize more and more for things out of my control, and I wish I was still in the dark about certain issues.

Therapy doesn't help when you're physically unable to make certain changes, and I hurt more now than I ever did before. I've destroyed my relationship, I don't have a social life anymore, I wish I could spend more time at work because I dread coming home every waking moment. There is no light at the end of this path, it's just a bleak road that leads to the same end no matter which branch I take.

I hope no one else ever experiences this level of negativity about mental healthcare, because I wanted it to work. It just didn't.