Therapy

I've been in therapy for about a year now. I cannot express how strongly I believe that everyone should be in therapy; no matter how happy and well-adjusted you may feel. To me, there is something that is just so comforting about having someone to talk to (even if they are paid to listen). 

I mentioned to my therapist that I used to write a blog (Skinny Screamer), but I felt that I had run out of things to say. Especially things that people would even care to read. She suggested that I start writing again - not because I have anything of note to say, but because it is an outlet for creativity that I've been missing over the last year. 

So, here we go again.

This past year, for everyone, has been a complete bitch. It has sucked on so many levels. For me, I had a great job, was downsized, was unemployed, got a contract job, was unemployed again, and just started a new job this month. Through it all I had Jolie. I talked, she listened. She talked, I listened. We worked through lots of "stuff" and solved some problems. She encouraged me through my job search, and commiserated when that search was not fruitful. Truly, her assistance and support has been invaluable. 

There is nothing wrong with me. I'm not suicidal or crazy. I don't talk to my therapist because I expect a cure; rather, I employ her to help, to be a touchstone, and to be a voice of reason in my life. She doesn't lie to me, she doesn't offer platitudes, and she doesn't blow smoke. However, one of the coolest things about my Jolie is that she cheers me on for even my smallest of triumphs, like when I drag myself out of the house, or put real clothes on. It's awesome.

I'm not a therapist, but I am a good listener. I now understand how sometimes people just need an unbiased and non-judgmental ear. Aside from work, my goal is to GET OUT OF THE HOUSE. If you don't want to get therapy, hit me up. You talk, I'll listen.