Which step is this?
I had my first appointment with my counselor tonight. I feel very positive about this. I was a tad uneasy when I first got to the office, because it's inside a very old medical center with dark parking lot and an outdated elevator. The elevator has a mechanical dial-type display to tell you what floor the car is on, and the inspection certificate expired in July of 2005 (I always check those). The office itself is definitely not lavish; lots of wicker furniture with flattened, dingy cushions. And the counselor has a dog. Oy. When the dog came out into the waiting area and ran away from the counselor and the boy who was helping her chase it, I raised a skeptical eyebrow.
But I decided it's all fine. It's better that the office isn't upscale. I can't be comfortable on prissy leather chairs or when I'm afraid to touch things. And the dog, I decided, is my counselor's version of Laurie O'Brien's Jack. I felt uneasy about Jack at first, too, but he never posed a problem for me. He was just an extension of Laurie.
My counselor's name is Kitty, and already I can think of three nurturing, positive, wise female figures in my life she reminds me of. First, with the dog and all, she reminds me of Laurie. Second, with her name, she reminds me of Kittee. And third, she looks a lot like Gabi, especially her hair.
She seems to have a reasonably varied background. In the 30 years she's been working in therapy, she's studied Erikson and worked in substance abuse, rehabilitation, sex therapy, and hypnosis. And she seems to give the kind of direction I want: not strictly behavioral, but not making me draw pictures, either. I told her how the grad student counselor at UNO (bless her heart) asked me to write words on a piece of paper using different colored crayons and to pick the color I thought went with the word. Kitty said, "That sounds like something they'd do in graduate school," which I thought was pretty funny.
I made her tell me about herself and her philosophy on counseling at the beginning, and then the dog--who is a five-month-old puppy and can't be left alone in the yard at home yet because there are coyotes--came over and began making a face at her. That meant we had to take the dog outside. So I got up and went with my counselor out onto the lawn of this old medical center while the dog did its business. And the session continued out there! Unconventional, I thought, but I like it. Not unconventional like drawing pictures and trying to inject meaning with a crumbly Crayola while someone tries to read your mind over your shoulder. More unconventional like standing in Gabi's kitchen and devising plans for distributing books for the UNO Press and eating bacon sandwiches and indulging in cigarettes.
We came back inside, and I finished the story, which took a good long time. Next week, we will talk about drinking, and then she will ask me questions about my background and childhood. And we'll work from there. Overall, I feel pretty positive, which is good, because I didn't want to waste a bunch of time finding a counselor I would like. And it feels good knowing I'm doing something to help myself. Besides, you know, doing a shot or chain smoking.
But I decided it's all fine. It's better that the office isn't upscale. I can't be comfortable on prissy leather chairs or when I'm afraid to touch things. And the dog, I decided, is my counselor's version of Laurie O'Brien's Jack. I felt uneasy about Jack at first, too, but he never posed a problem for me. He was just an extension of Laurie.
My counselor's name is Kitty, and already I can think of three nurturing, positive, wise female figures in my life she reminds me of. First, with the dog and all, she reminds me of Laurie. Second, with her name, she reminds me of Kittee. And third, she looks a lot like Gabi, especially her hair.
She seems to have a reasonably varied background. In the 30 years she's been working in therapy, she's studied Erikson and worked in substance abuse, rehabilitation, sex therapy, and hypnosis. And she seems to give the kind of direction I want: not strictly behavioral, but not making me draw pictures, either. I told her how the grad student counselor at UNO (bless her heart) asked me to write words on a piece of paper using different colored crayons and to pick the color I thought went with the word. Kitty said, "That sounds like something they'd do in graduate school," which I thought was pretty funny.
I made her tell me about herself and her philosophy on counseling at the beginning, and then the dog--who is a five-month-old puppy and can't be left alone in the yard at home yet because there are coyotes--came over and began making a face at her. That meant we had to take the dog outside. So I got up and went with my counselor out onto the lawn of this old medical center while the dog did its business. And the session continued out there! Unconventional, I thought, but I like it. Not unconventional like drawing pictures and trying to inject meaning with a crumbly Crayola while someone tries to read your mind over your shoulder. More unconventional like standing in Gabi's kitchen and devising plans for distributing books for the UNO Press and eating bacon sandwiches and indulging in cigarettes.
We came back inside, and I finished the story, which took a good long time. Next week, we will talk about drinking, and then she will ask me questions about my background and childhood. And we'll work from there. Overall, I feel pretty positive, which is good, because I didn't want to waste a bunch of time finding a counselor I would like. And it feels good knowing I'm doing something to help myself. Besides, you know, doing a shot or chain smoking.