So… I’m seeing a therapist, which is only kind of interesting if you know much about me or the past two years of my life. It’s been, to say the least, interesting. At any rate, Monday was my first day. After waking up feeling ridiculously shitty, I made an appointment. Right away I didn’t want to go, but by the afternoon I convinced myself I didn’t need to go. I was feeling better by the time my appointment was up. I told myself that I should go because it would be awkward to call and cancel and if I didn’t call they would call to check on me, but really I just knew I needed to go.

An hour of crying and talking later, all I wanted to do was sleep. It was a release and a confusion at the same time. I’ve never gone to therapy before. Thinking about it tonight, I feel kind of foolish and simple that I had to go to therapy and talking about such unimportant things (in hind sight). At the same time it was a relief to get some of the big stuff out of my head and into someone else’s mind.

But I keep thinking about next Monday’s appointment, and I feel uncertain.