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In need of therapy.
May. 31st, 2002 08:46 amSo today I'm up early as I have to baby-sit my cute little sis. Aidan is keeping me company, which is a good thing, as otherwise being up at this hour would be hard to endure. *grin*
That's pretty much all that's going on today, the usual work, chatting on #crfh, all that good stuff. Most of my friends who have Journals here tend to talk about sort of thing, just a quick "this is what I'm doing today" entry. But I tend to ramble on and philosophize, if you haven't noticed. I wonder sometimes why I do it. I think out loud, as it were, where all these people can read it. Why?
The reason, I've decided, is the same reason why people pay hundreds of dollars an hour to pour out their troubles to some stranger while they sit on a couch. It's therapeutic. I mean really, psychiatrists often don't do anything more than just listen, and that's what people need sometimes. Just knowing that somewhere somebody is listening. So that's what I've got here. You all get to be my psychiatrists, and I'll just ramble on about everything and anything. And all will be well. And I'll save a few hundred dollars. *grin*
And speaking of which, you know I was actually pronounced "well-adjusted" by a counselor a few months ago? Mom sent me, as she was worried that certain of my behaviors were unhealthy, but the counselor said I was coping well with a real mess, and not to worry, I'm sane and well adjusted. Imagine, me, sane!
That's pretty much all that's going on today, the usual work, chatting on #crfh, all that good stuff. Most of my friends who have Journals here tend to talk about sort of thing, just a quick "this is what I'm doing today" entry. But I tend to ramble on and philosophize, if you haven't noticed. I wonder sometimes why I do it. I think out loud, as it were, where all these people can read it. Why?
The reason, I've decided, is the same reason why people pay hundreds of dollars an hour to pour out their troubles to some stranger while they sit on a couch. It's therapeutic. I mean really, psychiatrists often don't do anything more than just listen, and that's what people need sometimes. Just knowing that somewhere somebody is listening. So that's what I've got here. You all get to be my psychiatrists, and I'll just ramble on about everything and anything. And all will be well. And I'll save a few hundred dollars. *grin*
And speaking of which, you know I was actually pronounced "well-adjusted" by a counselor a few months ago? Mom sent me, as she was worried that certain of my behaviors were unhealthy, but the counselor said I was coping well with a real mess, and not to worry, I'm sane and well adjusted. Imagine, me, sane!
