I’ve been going to therapy for a year and a half now. I used to go weekly, and now I go once every two weeks. I enjoy it, but I also feel kind of bad, because there are lots of people who could probably use some therapy but can’t afford it, and then there’s me, who just gets kind of tangled up in my own thoughts sometimes, and I can afford therapy. It’s unfair.
I started going to therapy because I went on a couple of dates with this girl and she broke my head apart. Figuratively. She was great and I found myself becoming vaguely obsessed with making sure that she was texting me back. Simple, but indicative of deeper issues. And I knew that, but I didn’t know exactly why I was acting the way I was, only that our conversations via text were frustrating me. One day it kind of went over the top when I assumed she was uninterested in me and I texted her that and when she finally replied, she apologized for not replying, but she was mourning the loss of a friend who was murdered in her home town. I felt awful (even though, to be fair, I had no idea about this), and kind of had a panic attack at work. Thankfully, it was a Friday.
After that I decided to seek therapy. I met a nice older woman who directed me to a nice, younger, and cheaper woman, who has been my therapist ever since. While I didn’t have a clear-cut answer as to why I acted so ridiculously to this poor girl I tried to date, I did get a better understanding behind my lethargic, depressed state in general at that point. (Part of the problem was that I was depressed and frustrated with my life, and I thought she was going to be this shiny beacon of hope. Please, everyone, if you learn one thing from this post, let it be this: Never assume someone else will make you better. It is your responsibility as a human being to make yourself better. It’s not ethical egoism, it’s life. Do not use your loved ones.)
Anyway, I don’t know why I’m writing about this, other than to express my gratitude for therapy and being able to pay someone so that you can talk to them about your feelings. I still think about that girl, too. Not obsessively, just occasionally. I wish we could’ve been friends or something, but that boat sailed off a long time ago. Oh well.
