So I started therapy

“And your anxiety does all that to you?”

“I, well, yeah. I guess.”

“What a bitch!”

So I recently started therapy again. The first time it was because I very much would like to not ever have a panic attack again if-it’s-not-to-much-trouble-thank-you-very-much. This time I’d like to not let my thesis anxiety get in the way of actually completing my master thesis. You know, if it’s not too much of an inconvenience. Because it’s supposed to be done in December. NO PRESSURE.

And sometimes she calls my anxiety a bitch, which makes me laugh and feel liberated because if my anxiety is just a big damn bully? I can deal with that. But she also has The Most Empathic Listening Face Of All Faces that it actually makes me a bit nervous. And I don’t begrudge anyone their professional face or anything. But it weirds me out a little. And I guess I’m posting this because all the stories I’ve heard about therapists are like “My therapist was awesome! He had a goatee and liked dinosaurs and ALSO SAVED MY LIFE” or they’re like “My therapist is a terrible person and they think I should just boot-strap more or something.”

There must be so many therapists that aren’t amazing or terrible but just doesn’t quite click for you, right? Even if it’s for the weirdest reasons, like Maybe You Are Too Good At Listening Could You Stir Your Tea Or Something You’re Making Me Nervous.

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