(Thank you, Rachel, for giv­ing me yet another title)

Tea

I’m going through a sort of re-evaluation phase right now. I’ve been feel­ing peace­ful and serene, maybe because things have been going well lately, so I’m left try­ing to fig­ure out what I really want. Whether I can sus­tain this hap­pi­ness, and how. What is impor­tant to my exis­tence and survival.

I have an appoint­ment with my ther­a­pist in three days. I haven’t seen him in over a year, but it doesn’t seem like that long ago. He says he still remem­bers me and remem­bers where my file is in his cab­i­net. I’m glad we didn’t sac­ri­fice our patient-doctor rela­tion­ship for a friend­ship (as I asked him about once) cause oth­er­wise, I wouldn’t be able to see him like this, and I’d be try­ing to find another ther­a­pist. Instead of feel­ing like I need to be fixed this time, I’m just won­der­ing where I go from here. A follow-up appoint­ment of sorts, that my work is cov­er­ing through the health plan.

I sup­pose the rea­son I want to talk to him is really that I need to hear myself talk, and I gen­er­ally don’t talk to any­one about this stuff. Probably because I don’t know what the hell I’d be say­ing. John’s the first per­son I turn to when I seek guid­ance, but con­ver­sa­tions with him are some­what forced because he’s ter­ri­ble on the phone. He needs to talk for a rea­son or pur­pose, and I could never explain this feel­ing to him. My ther­a­pist, on the other hand, has always given me a guid­ing hand, point­ing me in the right direc­tion so that I can start to fig­ure things out on my own.

I have a feel­ing this long-weekend, while mostly spent alone in my house, will go by sooner than I’d like. My artis­tic endeav­ors have taken a back seat to paying-work lately, and now I have the chance to spend some time doing what I want, for me.