What the Hell Just Happened?

I feel like going to the therapist was a big fat fucking waste last night. I have no clue what exactly we discussed or resolved. I wish somebody had gone with me.

I feel like we went around and around in circles. I hate when people argue me about what people who I know better than they do will do in a given situation. Don't ask me how I think my parents will react if you're going to question my answers.

After telling the therapist that I don't want my mother in the room when I talk with my father, she practically wanted me to promise her that I'd tell my mother that before arriving at her office. Fine.

She went over the things I want to discuss with my father, and I didn't realize until I was on the way home that she'd left out a big one.

My father e-mailed me asking if I want to go to dinner with them after therapy. The answer is no. The thought of sitting in therapy discussing difficult, painful, awkward things, and then having to go sit across from a table and eat food with him does not appeal to me. Especially since my mother is one of those slow eaters. You know the type - everyone else has finished but is forced to sit around for at least another 45 minutes waiting for her to finish. It drives me nuts. I told him it would be too late at night for me and I'd need to be getting home.

So he offered to drive me home from therapy. How do you say, "Look. I really don't want to spend any time with your wife. At all. For a variety of reasons, some of which you can guess and some of which would hurt you to hear even though you'd know they're true. And since you guys are joined at the hip, that means I don't want to spend much time with you. Nothing personal." to your father, who keeps trying to reach out?

Really not looking forward to this visit at all. I wish I drank. Or smoked crack. Something.