Therapy Session

I have a therapy appointment today. I started going in-person, but he’s not far away. He’s helping me navigate what it means to be neurodivergent.

I still never know what to talk about. It’s not like I don’t have issues to unpack. I guess I just never know where to start. How to answer, “How are you?”

I mean, you want the honest answer? I’ve lost all my passion, hobbies, and friends. I don’t go do social things anymore because they make me anxious. I am uninspired and bored. I let work define me so I don’t have to define myself. I stay in the bedroom all the time on the computer. I thought I knew who I was and it turns out I was masking my whole life and so much so that the real me is buried somewhere, and I don’t know how get to it. I don’t contribute enough to the household. I’m in a sinkhole of debt and student loan payments are coming due and I don’t know where to get the money, but I still have Starbucks and steaming services all the time. I don’t know how to unmask. I love/hate my dad and don’t know what to say to him anymore when he needles about something political or calls it the “China virus” or says Trump is an inspiration. I don’t know if I want to say anything to him at all. I miss my dog. I think about her almost every single night before I fall asleep and wonder if I should’ve stopped her suffering earlier. I love my job, but there is so much to do and I am incredibly overwhelmed, yet I prioritized this post long enough to write it. I don’t know where to start. With anything. I don’t know what the end looks like. And I have no idea what’s in-between.

But I usually just answer, “I’m alright,” and then sit quietly, awkwardly, trying to think of something to talk about.

Here are three more photos I took at the wedding we went to on Saturday. I like them.