My Therapist Quit
[00:02.62] Yo... they said talk it out
[00:08.74] Write it down
[00:11.67] “Externalize the chaos,” right?
[00:15.92] So I did.
[00:19.37] Now she’s gone.
[00:22.83] And I’m still frickin’ here.
[00:26.27] I told her ‘bout the voices in my walls that hum in Morse code
[00:29.46] Told her that my dreams smell like burnt toast and torso
[00:32.92] I told her I was Jesus in disguise with a tan
[00:36.37] She just blinked twice… then reached for her Xan
[00:39.29] I painted pictures of my psyche with a twist of decay
[00:42.74] Called my trauma a Picasso—she just backed away
[00:45.94] Told her “pain is my religion and regret is my priest”
[00:49.65] Then she canceled the session and called the police
[00:52.57] “Let’s unpack this calmly, Paul—can we identify your triggers?”
[00:56.56] “No sudden movements… okay? You’re safe here…”
[01:00.81] “…Oh God.”
[01:02.41] My therapist’s therapist quit
[01:05.59] Said I’m a glitch in the pit
[01:09.33] Tried to fix me, then dipped
[01:12.78] Now it’s me and my split (ha ha!)
[01:16.24] My therapist’s therapist ran
[01:18.90] She left behind a note and a can
[01:21.82] It said “spray this when he talks too loud”
[01:25.54] But it just made me feel like a clown
[01:31.13] I brought a dream journal covered in teeth
[01:33.52] Told her I bark when I sleep and I bleed through my sheets
[01:36.98] Said my mirror blinked first in a staring contest
[01:40.43] She said “let’s explore that”—I said “LET’S CONTEST!”
[01:44.41] Told her I adopted my fears like stray dogs
[01:47.34] Now they sleep on my chest and they snore like gods
[01:50.53] I tap dance through triggers, make a symphony of sin
[01:54.24] She wrote “burnout imminent” on a pad… then a grin
[02:00.36] “You’re not broken… just… fragmented…”
[02:03.55] “I need to… I need to step outside for a moment…”
[02:09.92] My therapist’s therapist quit
[02:13.38] Said I’m a glitch in the pit
[02:16.82] Tried to fix me, then dipped
[02:20.28] Now it’s me and my split
[02:23.20] My therapist’s therapist ran
[02:26.65] Told me I should write in the sand
[02:29.57] But my beach is made of glass
[02:33.02] And the tide don’t give a damn
[02:38.87] I called the hotline, they put me on hold
[02:41.53] The music was me humming from three weeks ago
[02:44.99] I left a voicemail for myself and I blocked my own number
[02:48.44] Now I watch my shadow blink and it’s making me wonder…
[02:51.88] She said “he’s beyond my scope”
[02:54.54] Said “he made my nightmares choke”
[02:56.13] Said “I saw myself in him...
[02:57.74] …and I couldn’t look.”
[03:05.45] Lucky her.
