I go to a therapist.
Once a week, I take an elevator up to my therapist’s office, and sit on her sofa, and tell her about my week, what is going on in my life, what I am pondering, what is upsetting me, what is making me happy, really all kinds of things. Sometimes the things we talk about are very serous. Sometimes they are not. Sometimes I cry, but most of the time, I laugh a lot, too.
In the past few weeks, I’ve seen or heard several of my friends talk about therapy. They have been wondering if they might benefit from therapy, or they’ve been feeling unhappy and don’t know what to do about it. Some of them have been scared to tell people they would like to try going to a therapist. Some of them tried going to a therapist once and didn’t have a positive experience. So I thought I would write about my experience with it, because I think that talking about these things, and knowing that people you know do them and do have positive experiences with it, can help a lot in trying to figure out whether it’s the right thing for you to do.
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