Yesterday I had another appointment with the therapist person. I'm pretty sure I like her. I'm almost positive I do. Unlike Brian, who is of the opinion psychology/psychiatry/whatever is for the most part crap, (that's not all his fault; he gets it from his mother) I think it's something that can be extremely beneficial, depending on the individual, his/her situation and the doctor. There's no denying a certain amount of bullshit is involved, but I feel that way about most professions so it's not a biggie to me.
Yesterday's topic was obviously the third failed IUI. I told her my period arrived last Sunday right before Brian was leaving to go out of town but that I wasn't surprised about it like I'd been the previous two times. So besides sleeping most of that day and being a little down this week, I think I'm doing pretty okay. Note: doc wasn't even tryin' to hear that. She looked at me. An uncomfortable length of eye contact time ensued. Then:
Her: So. You're doing okay?
Me: Yeah, I really think so.
Her: So you've cried over it and in a matter of four days have moved on?
Me: Well no, but...
Her: Oh. So you haven't even CRIED yet?
And it was at that point I believe she made it her mission in life to make me cry. I'm not saying she told me I look fat and my roots are showing. She just seemed very goal orientated. As in her To Do list looked like this: (1) make patients cry (2) make them stop crying (3) go home satisfied I've done my part to make the world a better place. The worst part - her evil plan worked. I kind of laughed as I reached for the tissue box that just happened to be sitting on the small table next to me; it's not often you recognize the moment you become a human cliche.
Her opinion is that I'm practicing the art of avoidance. Okay, fair enough. I'm burying my feelings, not dealing with it, etc. Which, okay - I can see that. And I understand that's not good. But then she told me I need to FEEL my feelings before I can move on. So I said, "Okay, so how do I do that?" she didn't have an answer for me. Her recommendations included write in my journal (check), continue to exercise (I haven't every day, but I've gotten much more consistent) and either talk about it with people or don't, depending on how I feel. Um...okay. That wasn't what I'd call a huge revelation, lady. Your gentle suggestions for me to do things I'm already doing makes me a little cranky. But then again anyone who ends a therapy session by poorly singing Aerosmith ("Sweeeeet Emooootion...") is A-okay in my book.
Weekend! Starts in 4.5 hours!