10:57 p.m. - April 25, 2002
So what brings you here?
I don't much like being counseled because despite the faux gravitas of plaqued degrees and dentist office waiting room furniture I laugh at the notion of paying a stranger to draw out my problems and guide me to conclusions and surrounding it all like a foul miasma is the conviction I am a loser because I am Now In Counseling.
The joke of counseling is that nobody's issues are oblivious yet we run to therapy like a methadone patient who's missed the bus and needs his dose from the clinic on the corner. I know what my problems and issues are and how to resolve them--it's a matter of reminding myself that yes indeedy I have a hairy set so get over it--but I suspect counselors exist because if everyone applied common sense and ganas society would miss Jerry Springer and Ricki Lake guests and we can't have that, right?
I don't anticipate multiple sessions. Maybe I'm being defensive. She asked me if I kept a photo album featuring yours truly and after my snort she said she'd like me to peruse pictures from the past and try to identify thoughts and feelings correlating to each image. I started tonight and have to admit it's uncomfortable and that's likely worthwhile. But did a counselor have to suggest this method of confrontation? Not at all.
I'm tired--been a packed week and tomorrow is no respite.
Damn, I need some friends.
