It’s. Not. Fucking. LUPUS.

So I still have to go to these stupid counselling sessions.   Hmmm… that’s a very typical Open Diary way to begin an entry, isn’t it?  Whatever.  Anyway I had a solo session last weekend and it was so great I just had to come share it with my favourite old diary.  

Basically, at the end of the hour, after listening to my awkward responses to her extremely personal questions, she handed me a booklet.  They have the booklet at the front counter for $3 but she let me have it for free. Lucky me.
It’s called "Safe from Violence".

Safe.      From Violence.

From Violence.   Safe. 

VIOLENCE!!!    ssssssssssssaaaaaffffe.

 
At first I was like "ahhh I’m drowning!" but then I was like "high five everyone!"

There was only a wafer thin veil of self control keeing her safe from violence at that moment, I tell you. 

Let’s go through the checklist on page 4.  It’s titled "Are you a victim of domestic violence?"

Do you feel that you are often ‘walking on egg-shells’?   No. 
Is it difficult to disagree with or say ‘no’ to your partner?   Pfft…. no.
Does your partner check up on what you are doing?   No.
Does your partner try to stop you from seeing your friends and family?  No.
Does your partner dictate how the household finances are spent, or stop you having any money for yourself?   Hell no. 
Does your partner pressure you to do sexual things you don’t want to or to have sex when you don’t feel like it?  Ha.  No.
Does your partner threaten you, push you, damage property, throw things or make you feel unsafe?  No.

So this woman was paid $500 over 5 hour-long sessions so she could give me a book that is totally irrelevant.  Hey, at least the booklet bothered to ask me "are you a victim of domestic violence" instead of jumping to wild and unoriginal conclusions.  It’s just like the battered women’s club again.  They start with this assumption, and it becomes a filter through which everything I say is completely devalued and twisted.  There’s no point to me talking to her, obviously.  She’s not hearing me. 

I probably shouldn’t whinge. If I’m such a super excellent independent adult then I shouldn’t be relying on these idiots for help – I should just do it myself and get on with it.  Lesson learnt:  if you swim in the kiddy pool, expect to be covered in piss. 

So I’ll just add that to the list of services that are supposed to help people but are fucking useless.  Right there with the Police and Vodafone tech support.