I’ve fallen in love with my therapist! It was inevitable (so I’ve been led to believe), but I didn’t expect it to happen quite so quickly. I’ve had one session……. Okay, so I’m not really in love. But you know, I could be.
All things considered (all in fact being one thing, and that one thing being the difficult relationship with seventeen, and the uncomfortable consequences of that) – I made the decision to attend therapy. Primarily with the view of leading by example, showing willing to find solutions for the sticky situation and illustrating that it is not in fact, scary. It’s basically just talking about yourself, and what’s not to absolutely love about that?! Someone needed to take the bull by the horns and if that person was me then so be it. I loved it!
I could have spoken for hours and hours as once the floodgates were open, there was no closing those babies. Unfortunately time and money restricts me from actually moving in and living there for two whole months. I would totally consider that, as I now wonder why I’ve never embarked on this course of action before.
Anyway, now I’ve discovered it, there’s no looking back. But I advance with a modicum of caution…… Why? Well, because someone very close to me, who themselves travelled down the counselling path, said to me, “be prepared to discover that the only course of action you might uncover, is to extract yourself from the situation that prompted you to go to counselling in the first place. It’s not always the rosie outcome you originally hoped for.”
And with those words still ringing in my ears, I take my first steps to investigating what lies beneath…… but not in the same way as Michele Pfeiffer. Nope. The only ghosts here, are those of dead relationships. Natch.
*Something old – me
Something new – therapy