Well this should come as no surprise, but I met with my therapist the other day. I was so excited to tell him how well things have been going for me. It’s only been a couple of months, but I've made so many changes! I quit smoking, drinking, sugar and gluten and I started a keto lifestyle! I used to excessively eat all the wrong foods when I was sad or really happy, but no longer. I told him all about my new found love for blogging/writing, whichever you consider this to be.
I explained how this medium has given me a new purpose in life. It’s changing how I see my future and where I see my life going from here. In his quiet, reserved way he congratulated me on my new found outlook and progress. He never gets too excited, he’s basically a glorified listener and there as moral support. I see him every other month, and he sits there patiently, listening to me drone on and on. He usually ends our session with a quick, “Well Ang, it sounds like you’re figuring things out.”
I should probably mention that Larry is my company’s print vendor and I may be abusing his role as our Executive Account Manager. Larry is good people; I’ve known him for 6 years now. We’re both Gen X-ers, which is probably why I feel comfortable talking to him and because I’m too cheap to pay for professional therapy. We come from hard working families, understand the value of a dollar and give way too much of ourselves.
I know, Larry would help anyone or thing, he's that kind of person that would help a stranded cat out of a tree, walk an old lady to her car or drive 50 miles to help a friend change a tire. He's just that kind of guy and I hope we stay friends until one of us croaks. I really need to start paying him with Spotted Cow beer, before he decides to drop me.
One day at work, I noticed a rash on my side and I panicked! I immediately dialed Larry, he should have never given me his cell number. Yes, he’s also my part-time family practitioner. Thankfully, he answered on the 3rd ring. I remembered him going through a bout of shingles awhile back and figured he’d know if this was the same thing. I described what it looked- and felt-like and he said, “No, that doesn’t sound like my symptoms”. “Whew!” I said. Larry tried to stress that he is not a physician and if it gets worse seek a professional. “Nope, I feel better already!”. I thanked him for his time and quickly hung up. No sense keeping him on the phone while he's at work.
For real though, paid professional help is no joke and if you need it, get it! If you can’t afford paid professional help, find your own “Larry”, mines taken.
Disclaimer: Larry is aware that our therapy sessions can and will be used in any upcoming blogging material.