post-therapy

i feel a lot better today. therapy was very constructive. i did get some perspective on the things that have upset me over the last week, and i have realised that nothing has actually changed in my life. all the things i'm upset about are to do with feelings of rejection, which is the one thing in life i'm most afraid of, so it's probably not surprising that i lost my shit completely over the last few days.

i find this process to be almost essential in my life now. there's never been anyone i could talk to about this kind of thing for an hour at a time without feeling like i'm boring them or being self-indulgent... which of course, i am, but i'm paying for that privilege, so i'm not embarrassed by it. i always rejected the idea of therapy because i associate it so much with medication and brain chemistry, but this is psychoanalysis, which is completely different to the therapy i did when i saw a psychiatrist. that was pretty awful. he looked at me like a specimen in a petri dish and i felt like i was telling him all this raw emotional stuff from my life and he was cutting out the details and looking for patterns that fit examples he's seen in textbooks. plus i reject the whole concept of antidepressants. i will try almost any drug, but not antidepressants.

anyway, after the session i had a bit of a spring in my step again, walked around smiling. i generally feel a lot better. i wanted to wallow in my depression last night but my massive Spanish flatmate who looks identical to Clive Owen sat in my room literally all night, which was great. i love making connections with new people; it's the only thing that makes me feel alive. would be better if it happened with a girl, of course. i need to fuck the shit out of somebody, i think. that's the best possible solution to this mess.

every time my phone vibrates my stomach kind of drops and i hope it's a text from that waitress. it is retarded how much hope i invested in that girl.