I know, it's been awhile. I feel guilty about not blogging & then I realize that I'm wasting my dang time by feeling guilty because this should be something I enjoy. Not a burden. And most days I really do enjoy typing about nipple hair and/or doodoo.
I started going to therapy last week & it's left me feeling a little more introspective. (Duh).
(this is me being introspective before I acquired more than 1 chin)
I've been wanting to go for awhile. Apparently, my balls to the wall motto also includes taking care of my soul. Which means I get to talk about my many issues. Not something I generally get excited about but I know in the long run that it will be really good for me. I think everyone needs therapy. No matter how put together you might seem, the truth is, if you're human, you're bound to have shit in your life. It's just a matter of dealing with it. So, I'm finally freaking dealing with mine. I started crying before I even planted my brick ass on the couch. And then I proceeded to cuss profusely & laugh nervously for the next 60 minutes. It wasn't pretty.
I was also supposed to get tested for ADD last week too but those plans were unfortunately thwarted because I started getting some intense cramping in my nether regions. For a second there, I thought I could be having contractions & a baby might pop out of my vagina at any moment! I literally started making mental notes for my inevitable episode of "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant!" For serious. That's how severe they were. So I cancelled my shrink appointment & went to see my family doc instead & after several tests & exams & what not, she determined that she could not determine what was wrong with me. Awesome! (P.S. pelvic exams are super fun with a toddler sitting on you whining & trying to touch EVERYTHING. Yes, even there).
I'm pretty sure now that I just needed to freaking fart real bad. I was a little embarrassed but mostly amused at myself. Zack told me that someone he knew thought he was having a heart attack but it turned out to be just a gas bubble. So after that special story, I didn't feel so bad about my own. Better safe than sorry, right?
(this is me looking like I'm either about to have an unexpected baby in my yoga pants and/or fart real bad)
I'm going to therapy again today- maybe we'll get to cover that precious little incident! When I was leaving last week she asked me what would make this experience better for me. I bit my tongue & chose not to say, "recreational drugs" & instead just said, "alcohol." So if she knows what's good for her, she'll meet me at the door with a couple shots of Patron. We'll call it "just-effing-relax juice." Ok, maybe not. But don't you think it would help people be less inhibited?! I mean, unless you're an alcoholic. Then you'd probably have to go to another counselor to figure out why your original counselor was an enabler and an asshole.
Go self analysis! Balls to the wall! Let's do this!