Growth

My Sunday meltdown resulted in a trip to my psychologist on Tuesday afternoon. I'm not ashamed to say I've seen a counselor professionally. While I know therapy isn't for everyone, I've found it always helps me. I starting going when I first had panic attacks in my teens, and any time I'm out of sorts, I end up back on that same couch, pouring my hear out.

Naturally, it was one of the first things I concluded I needed, when I forgot my black shoes for work on Monday morning and collapsed again into crying with frustration while driving home to get them. (More than hormones. More than work stress....Seriously. The second you find yourself crying over sneakers is when you admit you're going CRAYCRAY and book an appointment ASAP.)
My psych is a lovely woman understands and sympathizes me in a way no one else could. She is not just there to pay attention to me because I'm another cheque. (Well TECHNICALLY she is... but...The look on her face an in her eyes whenever I'm spilling my guts out to her is always sympathy.) I've told her things I don't think I could bring myself to admit to my closest friends.

The point of this all is that I'm feeling sorted out. I'm not RESOLVED, but I understand more. I understand why I had the first real panic attack I've had in years. The weird feelings I've been having. The depth of the break up I went through. (Read: It was more than just... petty. Which made me feel less stupid for being sad about it.)

ANYWAY, the point is, there is going to be some change in my life, and soon, I hope. Or soonish. What it might be, I don't know. All I know is that feeling understood is amazing. Feeling not CRAZY...is also amazing. I feel more level.

I'm going to try and get out a regular post but I've been busy with work/going insane/and back again. I worked a 13 hour day on Monday between my two jobs. UGH.