Ask me anything you want to know about feminist and gestalt therapy. I am ready.
So the paper's done. Me? I'm becoming increasingly convinced that I'm suffering from dysthymia. Let's look at the facts, shall we? I hate my job. I hate going to work. I hate working when I get there, and I'm constantly looking for excuses to stay home so that I can do nothing but sleep.
Sleep, people. And I could sleep the hell out of a day, too. We're talking, like 12+ hours here.
I spend my waking hours in a daze, or thinking about something completely unimportant, or planning better ways to plan my day. I'm confused by the fact that I don't have many friends here, and bewildered with the notion that a boy I barely know is nicer to me, and has more time for me than people I've known for years.
I'm not just talking about people here. My friends from the fort...we don't talk anymore either.
I think my cat's going through it, too. From the moment I walk in the door until the momsnt I walk out, he has to be somewhere on my body. He's getting clingy. Maybe it's the atmosphere.
And change. I hate change. I will dig my heels and fingernails and any other talon I can muster into the ground before I relent. I've been terribly hurt by people I've trusted, people I've actually let in, who became self-absorbed, mean-spirited, ugly people, who want nothing more than to take from me. And I couldn't see it, because I was so focused on who they used to be.
So why does it feel like now once I have let people in, they're pushing me out?
If I went to myself, as a therapist, I'd demand to know why I insist on gaining affirmation through everyone else. I'd sit with myself and make myself love myself (is that too many "myselfs"? Ah, well) and I would sit there and take it, dammit.
No, really, with a mirror and everything.
Also, my goal in life is to work in either sex therapy, or with GLBT individuals, as well as their families or friends. Never once did I mention wanting to work as a counselor for the fayette county jail system. Never once did I mention wanting to work with children; however, my father has taken it upon himself to let many people in this blessed city know that those are exactly the areas I'd like to focus in. What's more, he's taken the liberty of giving them my contact information.
No, I'm sorry, I don't want to work with children. I want to work with the gay.
Daddy is weird, I tell you.
Fin.
My apologies and a farewell??? - 2005-10-20
It should be Friday somewhere. - 2005-10-03
It's Friday again! - 2005-10-01
Amendment to previous entry... - 2005-09-26
Longer than I intended. It's to tide you over for another week. - 2005-09-23