The Skirts, Unraveled

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Things that came up and (unexpectedly) kicked my butt this past week:

  • I was scheduled to play piano for church yesterday. My dog ate my music. No joke. The stupid thing can barely limp up and down the stairs, but he somehow managed to find and destroy the one thing I needed this weekend.
  • My coworker and I were reprimanded unfairly on Friday out of the blue. Harsh and untrue things were said.
  • One of my best friends is leaving for Iraq. Today. He'll be doing the same thing he does here in Americaland (airplane maintenance) but for like triple the pay. It will, however, do triple the damage to my nerves while he's gone.

Normally, I would just shrug the first two items off and dump them in a pile of "Memories That Were Not So Great." They would remain buried under a rug somewhere, hanging out with a good portion of my memories from junior high. The third is obviously of a little more importance to me, so I'm prepared for it to continue kicking my butt in the weeks to come.

There was nothing normal about the way I handled anything this week, though. I broke down crying more often than I'd like to admit, and I even wound up begging for hugs on Twitter. I panicked when I found that I didn't have music for Sunday, even though I don't usually practice beforehand. I couldn't go. My mother graciously agreed to let me call in sick, but I froze at the idea of making a phone call. I told her I wanted to quit my job, to quit going to church, to quit doing everything I was forced to do. I spent hours sobbing while she listened to me talk in circles about how unhappy I was with one aspect of my life or another.

Finally, at the end of her rope, my mother offered me three choices — play piano, call in sick, or agree to go to therapy. My decision had to be made by quarter to six on Sunday morning when she came to wake me.

I am here to testify that some decisions should not be made at 5:45 am. This was one of them.

As of today, I am officially bound to a verbal agreement with my mother which states that I will go to therapy beginning this week. (Fortunately, I managed to tear myself away from Dreamland this morning long enough to make sure that this is simply a one-month trial as opposed to a ten-year commitment. Ditching one day of responsibilities isn't worth ten years of therapy, not even to an emotionally unstable and sleep-deprived trainwreck.) I'm not sure what to do with this concept of needing help or accepting help, so I'm going to crawl back into bed with some hot chocolate and blankets. I'll watch some Lord of the Rings and hope this was all one giant nightmare.

Oh right, and I'll pray constantly that nothing happens to this wonderful boy young man while he's overseas.




I've decided to pray for you, just thought you'd like to know.

Thursday's Child

Thursday's Child

Therapy isn't such a bad thing. I've been doing it for a couple years now, on and off for several before that.

It's really helped me out with a lot of things, most notably how to deal with anxiety and depression. The important thing is finding a therapist with whom you can connect. There are loads of great therapists out there, but only a few will be suited to you and your personality. So, try some different ones out, find one that really gets you, and be honest with him or her, and maybe more importantly, yourself. The last bit's key, and boy-oh-boy do I have trouble with it. I lie to myself about all manners of things, but it's nearly always counterproductive.

Best of luck to you, Skirts, and you know how to contact me anytime.



I hope the day is feeling brighter and that lots of hugs poured in. Here's one from me *hug* :)

When emotions are full and you feel discombobulated, it can be the beginning of a transition time for you. Finding a good therapist can help you find your way. Just having a weekly place to vent and be honest about what's going on can be really helpful.

Inside that sassy miss is a sensitive soul. That's a part of your gift. You're a sparkler.



Therapy is coping class. They should offer it in schools. English, Algebra, Coping.



Like Thursday's Child said, therapy is not that bad at all. I went to a few weeks of it when my parents got divorced- I didn't really need it for that, but I ended up taking advantage of it and discussing other problems/feelings/stuff floating around in my brain-humidor.

It's not really what most people think therapy is like- I didn't lay on a couch for an hour (I actually spent all my time with him pacing and talking while trying to solve a Rubik's Cube he made sure no one else but me touched), he didn't respond to everything I said with "And how does that make you feel?" and it was much more like having a friend to talk to than a therapist.

It's all about finding a good one, one that you are comfortable talking to. Don't just settle on one, because it's crucial to the process. Having a place to vent (besides the internet) and getting a perspective from someone that isn't especially vested in your personal life can be a great help. He might also be able to help you with your obsession with fictional midgets :P

And while I know we're not life-long buddies or anything, I'm a good listener and all-around awesome guy, so you can talk to me whenever you want. You're far too pretty to be depressed, so do please knock it off soon.



Scott - Thanks.

Thursday's Child - You can be sure that I won't be sticking around with someone I don't like. Telling the truth to someone I do like is a completely different story. Although, I guess that's what I do on my blog all the time...

Jamie - Aww! Thanks for always leaving such thoughtful and insightful comments. They always make my day. :)

TheQueen - Heck yes. Someone needs to be teaching this stuff to future generations. Parents, mayhaps? Teachers? Not sure, but it's certainly something I had hoped to learn before I was old enough to drink legally. Cuz that's totally the next step if this therapy thing doesn't work out.

Tez - I have some of the coolest internet friends ever, and you're most definitely one of the best. It's nice to hear from people who have been through the experience (you, Tyler, etc.), as I'm beginning to realize that I may really benefit from this more than I first anticipated. I'm far too stubborn to relinquish my love of hobbits, leprechauns, oompa loompas, midgets, and other adorable little people, but I'll do my best to shake this depression thing off as soon as possible. :)