Lately, I'd found myself lacking a proper outlet for my angst, rage, and all around torment. Where could I be emo? As someone in the mental health field, I know the importance of squishy stress balls, water guns, nerf balls, exercise, and all of those lovely outlets for anger. Not a one of them has appealed to me in a good long while.
By all schools of thought, I am the dreaded internalizer. What this means is that I will stuff down my issues until they boil over my proverbial pot and I either freak out and lose my stuff all over everyone or I get sick. If it is the latter, I will stay sick until I have resolved my issues. I've been sick most of this semester.
I also believe everyone should be in therapy, myself included, however I have yet to find the time to stick myself in with someone and have them stir my pot and turn down my temperature. It's not possible with the current schedule and, as such, here I am. Self-prescribed homework. Journalling. It's the therapy catch all. "Look for patterns!" I already know mine. Perhaps writing them down will help me feel better about them, though.
Tonight, I'd had a wonderful dinner with my family and some friends who came through town. We hadn't seen them in years and spent hours reminiscing and enjoying their company. By all accounts I was relaxed when I got home. However, seeing that my favorite hockey team had traded for a 3rd goalie, when what they really need are defensemen prompted a....well, a small upset and I thought that it was time for a place to write about these...minor issues.
Here I am.
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