F.I.N.E.

Today was my first session with a counselor. I have to say, I kind of hated it. Yes, I am the one who called and made the appointment. I felt like it was time for me to go. But yesterday, I decided I was crazy for making the appointment. And thinking you are crazy is usually what leads people to go to see a counselor. So that was a bit of a dilemma. Can we all scream together now?

So I went. And it was fine. Just. Fine. Except I really hate telling other people about my weird issues. You know, other than you, Internet. With you, I can comfortably hide behind my laptop screen. Ha ha, you can’t see me now!

Anyway, have I mentioned the best/worst part? My counselor’s name (and by the way, what exactly do I call this person? therapist? counselor? Dr. Feelgood? What’s the proper term?) is Steve Tyler. Seriously. Thankfully, he does not look like this:

Which is a good thing, because I’m already freaked out enough. Thankfully, he also did not sing “Dream On” or “Sweet Emotion” when I started to tell him my issues. Basically, I think I confused The Demon of Screamin’ about why I was even there. Clearly, I was not making my craziness apparent enough. I’ve been working at faking normal for a while now, so I might be getting pretty good at it. Or maybe I was subconsciously trying to deny or hide my craziness. He kept asking if there was something else. What had happened to cause me to come in now? Have there been any problems? Do I love my husband? (Yes, by the way). By the time we were finished, he had come just short of calling me a hypochondriac. He said I’m neurotic. But you know, I’m sure he meant it in the nicest possible way. And he does want me to come back. Woo hoo! I’m crazy enough for a 2nd date! With Steve Tyler! My lips feel so inadequate.