I need to distract myself ... so work with me here.
Its Saturday Night, 11:12 PM and I'm listening to tunes on my son's iPod. My music. I commandeered it actually. (to be fair, he never used it and why waste a cool gift like that?) I just bought this tiny speaker to plug it into and I'm blown away by the sound.
Music is a refreshing therapy. I sort of forgot what it is like to pick out songs and listen to music. Ok, partly due to my lack of exercise (try ZERO exercise). Which explains why I have the urge to jog as I sit here. But this takes me back to my teenager years and spreading out my CD collection of 80's hair band love ballads and playing my favorites.
That's all well and good but I'm not 21 anymore (you in the back, stop laughing!) .... I'm ... 43.
On the one hand I've got major life experience under my belt but on the other? Twenty two years ago I was at crossroads in my life, like I am now. The choice I made back then? Has gotten me this far and I seriously don't like how its all playing out (like a fucking nightmare I tell you! a nightmare). Don't worry I don't have the answers.
Instead,
I have a therapist. Its sort of weird. While I have no degree, I have studied psychology over the years and I do understand the mind. I learn firsthand with my brother, who is bi-polar, skit-z0h frenic and pretty much a mental mess. For anyone keeping track throw him into the mix that is now my freakshow life. Woohoo.
Don't get me wrong, I love my brother dearly. He has always been in my life and he has always been this way. He sucks the life out of my parents. They are getting on in years and I worry about his future. Don't worry I don't have the answers for that.
Instead,
I have a therapist. Its sort of weird to go and sit and talk. To ask this person, with a degree, to direct me in my life and help me through this ... trauma. Save me from this sinking ship. Stop me from going downstairs knocking on that stupid locked door and stripping naked right in front of him.
Then walking away.
Instead,
I have a therapist.
Its Saturday Night, 11:12 PM and I'm listening to tunes on my son's iPod. My music. I commandeered it actually. (to be fair, he never used it and why waste a cool gift like that?) I just bought this tiny speaker to plug it into and I'm blown away by the sound.
Music is a refreshing therapy. I sort of forgot what it is like to pick out songs and listen to music. Ok, partly due to my lack of exercise (try ZERO exercise). Which explains why I have the urge to jog as I sit here. But this takes me back to my teenager years and spreading out my CD collection of 80's hair band love ballads and playing my favorites.
That's all well and good but I'm not 21 anymore (you in the back, stop laughing!) .... I'm ... 43.
On the one hand I've got major life experience under my belt but on the other? Twenty two years ago I was at crossroads in my life, like I am now. The choice I made back then? Has gotten me this far and I seriously don't like how its all playing out (like a fucking nightmare I tell you! a nightmare). Don't worry I don't have the answers.
Instead,
I have a therapist. Its sort of weird. While I have no degree, I have studied psychology over the years and I do understand the mind. I learn firsthand with my brother, who is bi-polar, skit-z0h frenic and pretty much a mental mess. For anyone keeping track throw him into the mix that is now my freakshow life. Woohoo.
Don't get me wrong, I love my brother dearly. He has always been in my life and he has always been this way. He sucks the life out of my parents. They are getting on in years and I worry about his future. Don't worry I don't have the answers for that.
Instead,
I have a therapist. Its sort of weird to go and sit and talk. To ask this person, with a degree, to direct me in my life and help me through this ... trauma. Save me from this sinking ship. Stop me from going downstairs knocking on that stupid locked door and stripping naked right in front of him.
Then walking away.
Instead,
I have a therapist.
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