60 Minutes on the dreaded couch…

So, the moment arrived finally. I sat myself down on the mustard colored couch and looked across to her. The first thing I noticed was her neck. It was old and wrinkly and reminded me of a turkey lol. She proceeded to take out her pen and her notepad and told me to begin.

As you may have guessed now, I was at the psychologist’s office. I was having my first session since high school. My first session as an adult, mother, ex wife, and more mature. But I didn’t feel like any of those things when I sat down in the chair. I felt like i was 16 years old and following my mother’s instructions to get help. I felt like she had dropped me off and was waiting in the lobby all over again, when really I was the one who had drove myself and would haul my ass back home afterwards. I keep wondering through this session, if it will really help. Will the breathing exercises really help to calm the anxiety.

Why a couch also?? The couch just seemed so big and I felt so tiny on it. Why not a chair, would make me feel more secure and enclosed in a good place I guess.

Well the 60 minutes went by actually pretty fast, thank goodness. And the couch became comfier and safer.

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Is it really that bad???

I keep asking myself this question everyday. Is it really that bad??? Is my life really that bad? Are the problems and situations that I am dealing with that bad??? My answer to all these questions are yes, it is that bad…

But now the next question is, will I get through this?? Will I be strong enough to manage through the storm and be ok? I believe I am, but not sure. I try to be a confident person. I have always been wary of things and skeptical, but when it came to stepping up to the plate and trying, I showed up. But this time, I can’t find the plate to even step up to. I can’t find the strength to search for it and walk up to it. I know that eventually I will find the strength, but it’s a longer process then I would have thought.

But I do know that I am strong. I have proved that even when life is raining shit all over you, I still haven’t hurt myself or gotten too depressed. Sure I think about taking away the pain in one way or another or causing a different pain to distract myself, but I haven’t. I have only laid in bed for a couple hours here and there to wallow in sadness, but still have been able to function and get things done.

So to people out there, it probably is that bad, but that’s the wrong question. Ask yourself will you get through this? Will you find that strength somewhere deep inside of you? Will you overcome your obstacles? Those should all be answered with YES!