Today I met with my new psychologist/counsellor for the first time. She seems really lovely and I'm really happy and excited about getting to share my madness with her(!). When I sat down in her office I started crying instantly. I think I had been so psyched(!) all morning at the opportunity to talk about my feelings and stuff that they were just bubbling beneath the surface and erupted when the pressure became too much. I bawled my eyes out for an hour but I think I feel good. I mean, my psychologist was so lovely and so encouraging and so hopeful. And she's made me hopeful. But I'm sad that I'll only get to see her a couple of times before I move away (13th August, holla!). She gave me some homework to do before I see her again next week: I have to do a little of something that makes me feel good, like reading or going for a walk, and I have to fill in a mood/activity chart that attempts to identify how my mood correlates to my level of activity (which probably seems obvious because endorphins but it also includes activities like talking to friends or writing or whatever). I'm nervous and excited and happy at the thoughts of finally addressing the thoughts and behaviours that have been making me miserable for so fucking long. I'm a work in progress.
Today I also took my mother to her eye test appointment, ate Subway, ate two chocolate éclairs(!), finished season 8 of The Office and started re-watching The Mindy Project. (Words cannot express how much I love Mindy Kaling.) As well as all those fun activities, I put on make-up for no reason at all (a first for me) and managed to achieve a perfect eye liner flick (another miraculous first). I'm now drinking Diet Coke (full blown addiction) and ogling my one tru luv (MK).
Bad writing is my best friend.
(I want to start wearing more black.)