Thursday, May 14, 2015

30 years of intense therapy. 3 words.

I've been in therapy for so long, I joke that if I ever visited Vienna, Austria, half the population would come out to thank me.

For the last 25 years or so, I've been seeing a very wise man whom I've grown to love and respect. I need therapy. Not because I'd be Norman Bates of Richard Wagner without it--howling at the moon and falling down a rabbit hole--but because I need 45 minutes a week that are solely about me.

Me.

Me.

Me.

We spend our lives--so many of us do, anyway, doing things for other people, coming through at work, dealing with spouse tsurrus, money issues and bullshit at work that we forget something very important.

Those three words I promised above.

Deep self-appreciation.

They're not easy for me. Nine assignments out of ten I think I fucked up. I'm always worried someone will hate something, or will think I suck.

I've got to stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Every once in a while you've got to stop.

Look around.

Breathe.

And appreciate who you are, what makes you unique, and let yourself be.

Try it.


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