Today I had probably one of the most even days I've had at work in the past year. I was actually busy and it wasn't all mind-numbingly boring. I was getting along with my coworkers and I wore a dress to work (I do not understand why, but find dresses both comfortable and oddly confidence-boosting).
Everything was really going well. The weather was beautiful. It was sunny, warm, all the flowers had popped and bowed down for a belated Easter salute.
I went to see my therapist after work. I thought it was going to be an upbeat session. For the first time in a while, I really felt pretty okay. Somehow, though, everything he said pissed me off. We talked about why I stopped singing. It pissed me off. We talked about post-bac stuff. It pissed me off. We talked about my husband. It pissed. Me. Off. He encouraged me to go to group therapy. No fucking way.
Sometimes I am really unsure if all this talking and focusing on how screwed up things are, if it's really useful in any capacity. Right now it feels like the minute things start to get back on an even keel, somebody has to rock the boat. Does therapy have to make you feel like shit to accomplish something? I'm just not sure if I buy into that logic.
Sometimes I wonder if maybe I need more of a mentor than a therapist, that I'd rather have someone cup me gently in their hands like a newborn chick and focus on the good.