two weeks in therapy

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This is the first post I've written on a laptop for months... It's quite surreal; this page layout, feeling against the keys and even stance while writing all work together in waking up the old neurons, which used to recall all of my preposterous vocabulary and writing techniques. Nowadays, I feel more than ever that my writing sucks. And it sucked previously too. But I have always had a soft spot of security in this blog, which is why coming back always feels like a treat.

Therapy?

Therapy.

I feel like counselling is still a type of taboo topic. In England - the country, in which I am currently gathering perspectives - counselling seems like a minor help, or something that many make fun of and ridicule. My opinion? I guess I am still figuring that out - it hasn't been long after all. That being said, I find myself looking forward to my appointments. Perhaps it's a sense of long-term progress and secret hope in getting better and proving my negativity wrong (hehe, funny). Today, in just 5 hours I will have another session. How am I feeling now? Great. How will I feel towards the end? Emotionally exhausted, most certainly. It is fasinating speaking to somebody else about your thoughts and feelings rather than just examining them by yourself. Seemingly, I am used to the disappointment of reaching for other people's help, which is why I have chosen to keep things to myself. Now, however, opening up to someone and having them talk things through with me, all while shining a light far, far away from me with a promise that I will be able to get closer to it - extremely pleasant.

The experience to some is boring or unhelpful; question: are you trying? I am a firm believer in that of how one must be broken down in order to be rebuilt, both in how steady foundations are a key of a steady house, and how breaking teaches the person to be stronger later - allowing them to understand the seeming logistics of life and pain.

Now, I am looking for things. Better things. I am studying myself. There are some tinted words on my hand that I wrote the day before, during my film lesson. What do they say? I don't know (they say something negative), but oh my do they look stunning on my hand. Where will those words go? Into my song book as inspiration for a song that I will be able to write both truthfully and happily in some time. And there it is. A new perspective on the same upsetting matter. It is possible... but you can't achieve that without actually wanting to better yourself. Do it. Because you can and do it because you want to.

Be nice to yourself,

be nice to others,

be nice,

love,

gab