Well, it finally happened.

I went to a therapist yesterday.

Well, kind of. I started the therapish process. I think yesterday was mostly just to make sure I wasn’t in danger of jumping into traffic or anything.

Which apparently I am not. Good news.

I’ve been pretty quick to take medication in the past (which we’ve discussed), but never once have I sat down and actually really talked to anyone about my weird crisscrossy brain.

I think the closest I’ve come is, like, confession. And I don’t think that counts. Since I’m not Catholic.

But I took the first steps. That’s something. And now I’m officially a mental patient, right? Surely that earns me some sort of street cred.

I do all this in the hopes that one day soon I won’t have to put up with crazy nervous fits/waves of hopelessness/rumbly sick nervous feelings from leaving the house/are you realizing how wacked I sound cause I am.

I don’t know what normal feels like, but maybe I’m a step closer.


3 thoughts on “Mentality

  1. I hope this process will help to give you some peace about all the stressful, fearful and worrisome things that you have recently been blogging about.

  2. I hope this helps you! When I found myself deep in the depths of hell a year after Maddie was born, I called my OB to ask for a therapist, and she wanted to prescribe me meds without blinking an eye. Turns out she was going to prescribe me something I couldn’t take while nursing. I just wanted a therapist, for goodness’ sake. She finally gave me a name, and that in conjunction with a safe alternative helped me. Good luck!

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