I'm thinking seriously about getting in touch with a shrink and going to therapy. Nothing too much, maybe once a week or once every 2 weeks. I went to a psychiatrist about 12 years ago, when I was in college, but it was because I had a nervous breakdown and was suffering from depression. It wasn't because I wanted to. Now, however, I kind of want to. I want someone who I can just tell anything to, someone who I can just sit and vent to, or tell everything to and not have to worry about repercussions. I had originally started this diary with that in mind, but it quickly went the way of the dodo. My big mistake was in not keeping it secret. I let too many people know that I had it and where it was and instantly felt a sense of restriction between what I wanted to say and what I was saying. I began to worry too much about who would read it and what they would think. I didn't want to spend my time explaining what I'd said in a rant that someone had taken the wrong way.

What's more, my wife reads this as well. I don't really have any super secret secrets that I'm trying to hide from her, she knows pretty much all the skeletons in my closet. We have a good marriage and I love her very dearly, but we're not perfect and we do tend to piss each other off once in a while. It would be good if I could come here and blow off steam when I'm pissed at her or whatever, but knowing she reads this gives me cause for trepidation. On the other hand, however, I don't want to tell her, "You can't read my diary anymore." because then she really will feel like there's a reason not to trust me and it would make things worse. Of course, now that I think about it, a psychiatrist might have the same effect. She'd wonder, "What does he tell him/her that he doesn't feel he could tell me?" It could just turn into another source of tension and I don't need any more tension. But I need to do something.

There are a few people that I feel comfortable enough with to talk about anything...sort of. A lady that I work with, who lives in Vegas, has been kind of like a second mother to me. She treats me like I'm one of her kids, always making sure we're ok and always getting stuff for the kids and the like. When I talk to her on the phone, it starts out all business, but once the business is concluded, instead of hanging up, more often than not, I start venting to her and unloading a bunch of shit. But I can't really tell her everything either. I can tell her a lot of stuff, but there's still somethings I can't go into.

There was a woman like that back home as well, but mentioning her brings up a whole new series of problems. I'm sure I've mentioned her before in some old, past entries. She's the mother of a girl I was in high school with and one summer I'd spend time with her, talking, hanging out, just regular stuff, and then we ended up sleeping together and everything kind of got weird and our visits dropped off after that. For the longest time, I couldn't even mention her name because the wife would get upset and pissed off. I don't regret anything that I did with her, but I did miss being able to just sit with her and relax and tell her whatever was bothering me and not have to worry about her judging me or what she thought of me. We'd known each other for years because her daughter and I were in the same class, so she'd just sit there and listen, knowing that that was probably what I needed most. Just someone to listen. But she didn't judge me either, which was cool.

My mother-in-law is the same way in some respects. I'll go over to her house to run an errand for her or to get the kids or whatever and we'll end up sitting and talking. We're kind of like a support unit for each other. She'll sit and vent to me about her problems, bills, work or what have you and then I'll take my turn and vent about various things. But, like with Ann (my co-worker), I can't discuss everything with her. Plus, there are things about her daughter that she doesn't know and I have to be very careful and not let something slip. That's never been a problem, but it's just one extra thing to have to keep in mind. My wife's best friend also kind of fits into that same category. She'll call to talk to the wife or something and we'll end up spending an hour or so on the phone venting and ranting about various things, and she knows more "about" the wife than, say, her mother does, so I don't have to be as careful, but there's still things I have to be cautious about.

That's why I think, even though it would cost money (probably a lot), I'd like to look into a little therapy. Just for my own personal sanity. I'm not looking to be cured of anything, I just want to be able to go somewhere, to someone who will listen to me, vent and rant and bitch, and then leave. I'm sure I'd be a more relaxed, laid back, easy going person for it. Plus, he/she could never tell anyone about what we talked about without getting into deep shit. Eh, who knows. I might actually learn something about myself in the process. Ya think?

Oh well. This entry and has meandered along enough. Take care.

Da 'Bear

previous - next