False Bravado

I have no reason to feel so down.
I am a blessed mother to an adorable and talented and most importantly: HEALTHY child.

I have a good career that meets my needs.

I am surrounded by friends and family members, love and support, kindness and caring.

I have met an incredible man. One whom you are proud to talk about with your mother. Someone loving and kind and respectful.

Someone who wants the same things out of life.

So why do I sit here so melancholy? Grasping at straws to find a reason I don’t feel quite right.

I think my sister is right. Maybe it’s long past-due…time to get my arse into therapy and talk about the childhood traumas, the painful divorce, my fathers pill-laden death or my mom’s mental illness.

I just hate how it Looks. Sounds. Feels. When it’s all stacked up like that.

“Oh, poor Mary. Get ooooioover it” is kind of what my internal dialogue tells me.

“Boo, hoo. Pity party for youuuuuu”.

But maybe that’s her point. Maybe the fact that I barrel through life like an unhinged freight train is the reason that on quiet thoughtful nights like this…I feel so blue. It’s so hard to pinpoint the source of my unhappiness because there are histories and histories of dried up defeat and disappointment and well, pain, really.

How do I start? I’ve tried counseling before and it’s always so awkward and uncomfortable. First appointment, without fail. It’s like:

“Check these boxes (if applicable) to assess just how fucked up you are in order to determine whether your insurance pays enough to warrant my commitment to help your crazy train”.


Sometimes I am afraid the sheet of paper is going to just burst into flames.

“Tell me the reason for your visit today”

If I go as far as to say ‘ I consider driving my car off the side of the freeway once a week just to see what happens’ might send off some uncomfortable red flags (rest at ease family, it’s not that bad).

But to say, ‘I feel blue for no goddamned reason’ also feels silly.

I told my sister that I am going to make an effort to find someone and just commit to going. Surely I spend enough time thinking about myself and writing about myself…I can pay someone to listen to me TALK about myself too. Right?

Wish me luck. Stay tuned.

its never too late


One thought on “False Bravado

  1. Oh, I love you babe. But, I agree with Sissy…find sometime you like, and commit to going. And then give me their number.

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