Therapizing

"Alcoholics and addicts, time after time, would rather get loaded again than have to face some inner truths. The freedom from self is made impossible by holding on to fears and secrets we've harbored all our lives, the way of strength, paradoxically, is in becoming vulnerable."

So I've been in therapy since I was 15. That's 15 years of weekly (minus my college years and some bits and pieces here and there) that I've had to pay someone to open up to. And have I done it? Not really.

My first therapist was kinda famous. His name was Joe Novello, and he is the brother of Guido Sarducci, the Saturday Night Live dude. Novello was great - smart, handsome (not that that matters in a therapist), and well-versed in child psychology. He would have had some wonderful things to say had I felt like talking, or even listened. I remember clearly we talked about my jeans one time and where I got them. That was pretty much like all the sessions. I talked about some stuff, but never got very deep.

I saw a few people in college; mostly counselors from the university cause I was too broke and didn't have health insurance. One of them tried to put me on Zyprexa, which I think is like a horse tranquilizer, and would have cost me $97 for a month. I never saw him again.

After my suicide attempt, I went to this nice lady named Joan. She was new-agey and into brain waves and such. She would meditate with me sometimes, which I found oddly helpful and still unnerving. I have trouble being quiet sometimes. I need to twitch. But we talked about my mom, and all my troubles from being a kid - the ones I could remember. We talked about the attempt and all the people it harmed. I got a little better; enough that I had the mental energy to take on a cross-country move.

After a few years of living here I finally got around to getting a therapist. I like her a lot (and I'm not just saying that cause she has this link). She does the meditation thing too, but only if I'm in the mood for it. I feel like she's listening, you know? And she gives good advice.

I think I'm finally in a place where I can actually start to look at the things inside myself, and make myself vulnerable. Ohhh, that just gave me chills. Maybe vulnerable isn't the right word for me. How about: more open. Over the years, therapy has introduced me to the idea of opening up, and I've opened up by telling my stories. Now, I have to keep working in order to FEEL my stories, and then actually deal with them. Looks like I'll be in therapy for a while.