happiness.... er....
yeah. Well, I just got back from a therapy session, in which I said pretty much everything I needed to say. I really like my therapist. She really likes me too. She thinks I'm smart, she likes the things I talk about, or at least the way I talk about it. I get along with her. I was late, but it was ok. She called me to make sure I hadn't forgotten. I had. I thanked her for calling me. She said she wouldn't miss it for the world. So that made me feel really good. I told her, in less than 50 minutes, pretty much the impact of the whole week, and what I thought about it, including today. She's amazing. It put me in a good mood. Well. No I'm not in a good mood. I'm just O.k. Amazingly. I thought I ought to be upset, talking about my feelings. I think its amazing that I'm not worried or stressed or mad at my mom. Well, she read one of my diaries, and lied to me about it. Awesome.
Actually, it could be good. Because that was a while ago, and she is o.k. ish. I mean, she could have freaked out way more than she did. So. Perhaps this knoledge will open up opertunitie for more trust? I don't know. I've got to make something good out of this I suppose. See, I should be stressed out about this, all this talking and thinking and expressing to look forward to, and the risks involved with it. But it can only get better through talking to her.
Actually, it could be good. Because that was a while ago, and she is o.k. ish. I mean, she could have freaked out way more than she did. So. Perhaps this knoledge will open up opertunitie for more trust? I don't know. I've got to make something good out of this I suppose. See, I should be stressed out about this, all this talking and thinking and expressing to look forward to, and the risks involved with it. But it can only get better through talking to her.