Me, meet me.

I originally wanted to take my brother to therapy. My friend who referred to a therapist told me I could just go for myself. I made an appointment for today at 5:30.

Throughout the day I wondered what I would talk about. On my way there, I felt dumb. What if he thinks I’m some stupid girl with stupid problems? What if he is amazed at the pettiness of my “problems”?

Only because it was too late to cancel did I uphold my appointment.

I spent almost one hour in a dimly lit room, cross-legged on a couch, talking, talking, talking. I laughed (which is pretty normal) and I cried (not as normal). I rambled a bit, answered questions, asked a few. Not once did I feel stupid. Except in the beginning, when I was ironing out my assumptions and preconceptions.

Let’s just say, I’m planning on being a regular client for the next few months. Hahha.

I am actually super excited. And even a bit honored that he agreed to work with me. Did you know that therapists decide whether they want to work with client? I asked him which factors he considers when choosing to see a new client. He said he doesn’t like dull or know-it-all clients. I’ll take this as a compliment. Hahah.

Anyway. The brother is missing out but in due time. I guess it’s time for me. I never ever ever in a trillion years thought I’d be going to therapy. Originally, I thought it was for abnormal people (whatever that means ahah), the traumatized, hopelessly broken, addicted. But now I see, there are parts of me that run like a broken record. And I don’t want- no, I refuse to allow the same story, same broken scratchiness to keep playing out.

There is a long road ahead of me. I am unashamed of my need for help. I just want to take the fullness and wholeness of each step. I don’t mind stumbling. I don’t mind failing. I don’t mind anything. Just, I want to keep going. I don’t want to stop. Because, when my heart is settled, upright, and full, what can stop me? This is what drives me, almost scares me. And I want it.

As I walked away, got in my car, and drove away, I was overwhelmed, seriously overwhelmed. Do you know what it feels like to find out there is an answer to the madness? That there is an end to the tiring cycle of insecurity, anger, etc.? That there is an explanation? I do. Or at least a glimpse of it. It feels like freedom. It feels like peace. It feels like a conclusion and a beginning.

Oh life, why are you so crazy. Oh Jesus, why are you so present? Dad, why are you so giving?