It's Thursday. Thursday means I'm visiting my therapist.
I often think about what we will talk about Wednesday night. Sometimes, I forgot I'm going and then stress about what to think of. I usually have an idea, but often try to avoid talking about that as long as I can.
I enjoy hearing about her. She's starting her own private practice, and I find it fascinating. Eventually, when it gets big, I imagine I won't see her anymore. That thought kind of makes me sad, but for now, I'm not worried about it. With some luck, I won't need to see her anymore by then anyway.
Tomorrow is my next visit. I haven't been feeling physically well lately, MS related and most likely a kidney infection. I'm choosing not to treat it. That's totally a mental health issue and while I'd be content to bring it up, I know I really should.
I don't know what she is going to say. I'm quite positive she will want me to call my doctor. I know she won't understand why I don't want to, and if I try to explain it, I'm going to end up crying. I realize therapy is a great place to cry and yadda yadda yadda, but I HATE crying in there. She doesn't judge or anything if I do, just offers some Kleenex, but still, I HATE it. It feels awkward and ridiculous.
I'm going to have to find the courage to bring this up tomorrow - and then hope for the best. I can't even predict where or how the conversation will go.
