Here’s the thing. Once you’ve been seeing a therapist for any length of time, its like they set up camp in the back corner of your mind. While that has proven incredibly helpful for me, it always feels a little weird in certain situations.
Take dating for instance.
I struggle. More like I’m driving the strugglebus. Over the speed limit. On ice. On an isolated back road.
In other words, while I look like a normal, functional person on the outside, I’m internally loosing my shit.
Now Sara, being the awesome person she is, probably could have told me that last August when we first met. Instead, she waited until I figured it out (or more like willing to admit it) for myself.
So before I went on a date last Saturday, Sara had told me just to think of it as “practice.” I’m all “uh-huh, sure” I’m 28 years old and have to PRACTICE dating? I mean seriously now, don’t I have enough problems at this point?
So when Saturday rolled around and I was having an internal meltdown, wondering how the hell normal people did this dating thing, I heard Sara in my head. “Just think about this as practice.”
She was right, dammit. Then again, she usually is. That’s why I pay her.
Is it weird having to think about your therapist while you are on a date? Yes. Is it even weirder needing to run your dating decisions by your therapist to be able to go on said date and not lose your mind? Hell yes. Would I love to be able to throw caution to the wind and be like normal? people and just date? Of course.
But you see, I don’t want to be the cat lady when I’m older (no offense to cat lovers). I don’t want to lose the chance to have a real relationship with someone. For the love of all that’s holy, I just want to enjoy myself and be happy.
And if that means my therapist camps out in the back of my head, so be it.