Today, I finally get to see my counselor.
That sounds super crazy, I know, but the last two visits with Lopez, he’s been all “Well it sounds like things are pretty good, so let’s try visiting every 3 weeks.”
Um are you hearing the same conversation I am hearing, because to me, it sounds like I need to stick to the 2-week regimen before I go insane. Mmmkay??
I don’t know what it is, but the past month, I’ve been pretty depressed. I think it’s a combination of several things that’ve got me down; troubles at my job, issues with my freelance work, sometimes relationship issues, family stuff, money… blah blah blah.
And sometimes I just wonder if there’s simply an ebb and flow to the way I feel. Sometimes I’m in a good mood, sometimes I’m in a really bad mood, and other times I don’t want to get out of bed.
When D and I first got together, I found myself not really knowing what to do in the moments we weren’t hanging out. Yeah, once again, sounds really crazy, I know. But the relationships I’ve had in the past haven’t really been relationships…and we haven’t spent much time together.
I’ve never been dating someone who makes time to see me almost everyday. So when D is at work all day on a Saturday, I find myself wondering what to do. Before I was in a relationship, a Saturday might be spent doing freelance work, hitting the gym, or taking a walk to the Starbucks downstairs and posting up with a book and a latte.
But I can’t bring myself to do those things (freelance, yes, if I’m on deadline) for some reason. Part of me thinks I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts, which Boots told me that if I were reading a book, technically I’d be alone with someone else’s thoughts…and then I corrected him to say that every time I sit down to read a book I read a few pages and then realize I have no idea what I just read.
Maybe it’s just stress?
I was thinking the other day about my dating past, and I realized that I’ve never been in a relationship that was just good. Where things were just good. It was always on some extreme high or incredible low; I was always an emotional mess.
So when D and I part ways, say in the morning before work, and we kiss each other goodbye and wish each other a good day, sometimes I find myself stepping into my car and asking myself, “Is he mad at me?”
Simply because I am used to a guy getting pissed at me for some dumb reason or there always being some sort of drama. I’m not used to just being.
Baggage is a bitch.