I have to go to "therapy". Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
I might as well say this now because I don't think I've ever mentioned it.
All of last year (2009) I went to therapy for general depression and anger I guess you can say. I was told about it late in 2008 and I decided it would probably be good for me, it wasn't very far away either, five minutes in a car and all that. Oddly enough my therapist was a college dude in his 20's with an odd as in cool name, one you never hear. That's not the important part though, he was pretty cool because he was only like 6 year older than me at the time. Not that I'm saying his was cool for being young, I mean his personality. Sure sometimes he wanted me to do something out of therapy and honestly I don't remember ever doing them. But at one point last year this was the best thing I had, I remember it being the only thing that made me happy. So time went on and pretty much every session was us just talking back on forth on just nothing really. Just talking, I think that means I need a friend which I guess spun my world upside-down.
At the end of 2009 the guys one year like practice program was done, so he had to leave or whatever. You know blah blah I'm not a very dramatic person and it doesn't really affect me. So starting this year a had a therapist I was expecting all along, an older than middle women. She was fine and everything but around April I was like I think I'm cool now I don't really feel depressed or angry anymore really. In fact I pretty much feel content all the time.
Bro it's cool man.