so i had recently started going to a psychologist, and let me tell ya, it has definitely been a long time since i have seen one. you always know when your head is in a volatile state , because you walk into the office of someone you had never met and prepare to regurgitate the past sequence of events that has most traumatized you. basically for me, it was like a cat yorking up this enormous hairball onto to couch of this lady.
after a few sessions things were going alright, but she had some "idea" on what might be " wrong with me" (my words, not hers). i thought they were a pretty accurate perception, and was sitting there like a child in a candy store waiting for my prescription of zoloft or some other anti-depressant, so i could start to regain my life. i never got the prescription. i was just told i needed to learn how to protect myself better. well, duh.
if i knew how to control and organize my emotions i would not be in her office. if i didn't constantly hurt, i would be off in the world planting flowers in peoples yards that did not want them. (flower graffiti, go me!!)
it's not her fault. i just am so ready to forget this feeling i guess. i hate anti-depressants, but right now i think i would take elephant poo pills if they told me it would help to gain an advantage over these combustible feelings.