On The Couch Agan

When I was 14, my father sent me to see a therapist for the first time.

When I met the man whose name was Terry, I didn't wanna do it. I didn't wanna talk to him about my problems. I didn't wanna talk to him about my family issues, and I didn't wanna talk to you about the secret things that I hadn't told anybody. But over the course of three years, I came to trust Harry and eventually invested all of my secrets with him.

In the end, it was Terry who came to my aid when I tried to kill myself, not any of the doctors at the hospital. I told him about my sexuality. I told him about what happened to me when I was seven, and I told him about the real problems I was having living with my father and my stepmother.

Terry was kind, he was thoughtful, and he was intelligent. He never pushed me to say what I didn't wanna say, but he did push me enough to say this stuff. I wanted to say but was too afraid. The last time I saw him was a month before I moved from the Detroit Metro area to Dayton, OH. I sometimes wonder how he's doing.

What does this have to do with my current situation?

Today, for the first time in almost 30 years, I saw a therapist. She seems nice. She seems intelligent. She seems like she has all her shit together. I hope so because she's really the only choice I have when it comes to my insurance. How much I can pay out of pocket?

So why do I need to see a therapist?

As many of you have been reading my blog and my Facebook page for a long time, no. That I have a lot of problems, a lot of issues I haven't dealt with beyond blogs and journaling about a month and a half ago, my general practitioner told me I need to start seeing a therapist I need to deal with the grief, the loss of my son. I needed to deal with the issues that I live with based on what happened to me when I was 7, and I need to deal with the problems I'm having with my family problems that I caused problems that have made me miserable for more than 10 years.

I'm not sure how I feel about all this. I'm more comfortable sharing what happened and how I'm doing and coping via the Internet. Talking to a single person is a little scary. I know I shouldn't be afraid. I know these people really are there to help. I mean, why would they do this job for such little pay if they didn't give a shit?

So what am I hoping to get out of this?

I want to not cry every week. Uncontrollably because I miss my son. I know that there were always be tears, and I know I will never not miss him, but I need to be functional. I need to not have it like a stone weighing me down and pulling me into the depths.

I wanna deal with what happened to me when I was seven. I want to finally get it out. I want to know that it's over. I want to believe that it's over. I want to make my understand something that wasn't my fault and that I need to stop acting like I'm the guilty party. I know those are foolish things to think, but I've thought them all my life.

And finally, I want to fix what's wrong between my father and me. I will not go into the details of what's broken in our relationship because that's private, and I know he wouldn't appreciate having it shared, but Needless to say, most of what's wrong is my fault. Doesn't make me feel good to say that it makes me feel like I've been kicked in the balls. Well, it's true. All the sundering with my father, it wouldn't have happened if I to handle things differently.

So as of today, I'm in therapy. Starting next month, I'll be going two times a month and more if needed. I think I'm ready to do this. I think I'm ready to talk about the problems that have been plaguing me almost my entire life. I hope that when this is over, things between me, my children, my wife, and my extended family will be better than they are now. I hope I'll stop making people feel bad. I hope I'll stop breaking hearts. I hope I'll stop making things worse because I can't deal with what happened before.

Fingers crossed, I'm on a new path.

- Josh (10/03/2021)