I have a standing therapy appointment every Saturday. I’ve been seeing my current therapist for almost eight years and, as much as I hate to say it, it’s pretty likely that I’ll always be in some kind of therapy for the rest of my life. Eventually, my therapist will retire and believe me, that day I will weep because it takes a while to find the right fit.
Anyway, I went today for the first time in a few weeks. In the span of an hour, I went over what’s been going on at work, with my mom, and my own issues. I thought maybe my brain was overreacting to stress, but the look on my therapist’s face as I went through everything made me realize just how much has been going on. While that’s more than a little disconcerting, at least I’m still in one piece, right?