Tuesday, 16 February 2010

Where Dreams go to Die

I'm pretty open about the fact that I see a shrink. I started when Hamish was young and I was verging on post natal depression and still go once every 5 weeks or so. Sometimes I wonder if its time to stop going.  But then I'll have one of those weeks where and appointment overlaps with me needing a debrief and I decide for the time being maybe therapy is a good idea.

The thing is I have a love/hate relationship with my shrink. She is not your hugs and lollypops type of therapist. She is hard, she makes me work hard. Sometimes that is exactly what I want. Other times I really want someone softer, more in line with my ideologies who I don't have to explain myself to so much. Truth is though someone that makes me work might not always be what I want but I do think its exactly who I need.

The above picture is a photo of the waiting room. Its awful. It smells old, it has old faded pictures on walls that are painted a colour somewhere between grey and cream, it has talk back radio playing and the newest magazine is from June 2008. It could be the most depressing room I have ever been in. It just seems so wrong to have a waiting room like that in a Psychiatrist office. I mean really if I wasn't already in therapy that room could send me over the edge *grin*

(NOTE: pointless post really but it was written while waiting for my shrink.  Do these people ever think that leaving unstable clients waiting might not be the best of ideas?)

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