In my time in therapy, I always liked it when the glimpse of the real person eeked out of my psychiatrist.
Sometimes I find myself not reacting as strongly as s situation seems to dictate, and I’m wondering if it’s natural or I’m simply not admitting something to myself.
Half full, half empty. I never was good at answering that, but in looking at my life from the outside, it seems a bit obvious at times. Hm, in both directions depending.
Painfully one of those strips which brings me back. Thinking about cutting ties a bit when I moved west, as well as wondering why I keep ties so strong with things past. And then the “keeping old lovers around for maybe later”… I’ve at times accused myself of doing this.
In fiction, I wish my therapists had been this much fun, in reality, I’m kinda glad they weren’t. :)