My Mumbling Thoughts

Wednesday. My favorite day of the week. Hump day. Middle of the week. Halfway there. Almost Friday.

Almost to the end.

For some reason I've been feeling "meh" recently. Not bad. Not good. Not overly anything. Just....blah, I suppose. Blah is probably the best description I can give it, if I bothered trying. I'm just kind of here, with not much to do, inside, looking out my window at the same grey, desolate days.

Wow, desolate. That doesn't sound good. But desolate it is.

I know for a fact that I'm nowhere near as bad as I used to be like last year. I can still get out of bed, brush my teeth and hair and smile for the most part whenever I go into the kitchen and see my babies. I don't mentally beat myself up saying that I'm a lame-ass that never does anything except mope in my room. I still go to my lectures. I'm working on my work (even though I have to grit my teeth and plow through it). Generally my Things Around The Flat stay clean and tidy. My room doesn't look like a homeless shelter. At first glance, it would seem that I'm fine.

But goddamn if I don't feel something in my throat starting to form. A lump that has a familiar feeling, something that I could start choking on if I don't spit it out now. I know the drill. I know what has to be done. I know where it's leading.

A couple of weeks before I left for the Christmas holidays, I wasn't feeling too great. I knew that I was down and that I should see someone, but I just put it off because I thought that everything would be fine once I got back home. Everything is always better when I go back home. And it was. Life was hunky dory.

Then I came back, and not even a week later I had that furious meltdown where I just sobbed and cried until I thought that my face would be permanently swollen and purple. True, the weep-a-thon did relieve some of what I was carrying round inside, but ever since then I've just been wandering around with this unsettling feeling inside of me and I can't seem to shake it.

I spoke to Helen about it (because Helen is always the person I speak to when it comes to...well....anything), and she said that maybe I should consider popping down to pay Fran a visit. Yes, I had been thinking the same thing for a while now, but gah, it's just that first phone call that's always a pisser for me. It seemed to be such a difficult task, because even though I know that speaking to Fran has helped in the past, I thought maybe I could just battle through this on my own without anybody sitting across from me with a notepad and pen asking questions. So I kept putting it off for a couple more weeks while the lump in my throat continued to grow and I found it more difficult to breathe.

About two weeks ago I found myself down at the medical centre for non-counseling related things, but decided since I was down there, I might as well ask about the uni's counseling centre and if it would be okay for me to pop round the corner and see if I could book a quick appointment with Fran. That is when I was told some terrible news that Fran was no longer there! In fact, the bloody counseling centre wasn't even there! They had to change some things and now I needed to start over from the beginning and be referred by our university's doctor.

Ugh. Effort.

But I did it anyway.

Now I'm going in for my first session next Thursday to meet with my new counselor, Maria. For some reason I'm more nervous this time around, because I'm not ridiculously depressed like last year, but I can feel myself on a familiar path. And last year I knew that the main reason why I was so down was because my finances were in a horrible state and I didn't know how to deal with it. Yes, there were some other underlying issues that I didn't even know about, but mostly the reason why I was so torn up was pretty blatant. This time, however, I'm going in because...what? Life is too hard? I can't hack it? Maybe I just like to hear myself talk about how blah my life is?

Part of me kind of knows that I'm just really stressed out about work. Another part of me isn't sure if it's just the work or if there's a hidden iceberg lurking in the back of my subconscious waiting for me to crash into it. Either way, I'm hoping that me going back into my counseling sessions will help shine a light on whatever is nagging at the back of my brain so I'm not just wandering around aimlessly in the dark.