Up early as my calendar is rapidly filling up for December. I frequently have multiple appointments that end with me having to work a shift at my low-wage part-time job.
Today I am starting with a lunchtime appointment to start a new round of therapy. You get a certain amount of counseling paid for (thanks ADAP!) as part of all the great stuff you get for free after you become HIV+. I did tell you about the big screen TV and the 200 free Netflix rentals didn't I? It's true, you get them both delivered to your house right after your T-Cell count drops below 300.
This round of therapy will be (I think) 16 weeks. I'm not going because I have fallen in to some kind of crisis. Far from it. Things are much improved since the last time I saw a therapist over three years ago.
The hated roommates have been replaced by two messy straight boys that don't give me a lick of trouble.
I no longer suffer from panic attacks, and the anxiety disorder I was taking medication for? I stopped the pills for that last month.
I got a dog and he died. I got another dog and he ate my bed, but was nice enough to continue living.
I got (and stayed) sober, attended regular AA meetings but so far have failed to find a sponsor.
I got a job and then lost it when one of my employees murdered a customer.
I entered a photography contest and got serious about art.
I sold 4000 comic books for pennies on the dollar as I slowly went broke. Again.
I joined a community advisory board at the local health center, and am now heading up the committee that publishes our newsletter.
I became a licensed foster parent, but still have no kid to show for it (that's another post).
And I am generally and overall a much happier, profoundly more peaceful person.
So why go in to therapy? Well, first of all, why not? I am a firm believer in taking the time to pick up the box and give it a good shake now and then. You need to find out what's inside. And as good as things have become, I am still feeling like a lot of things from my past, and a lot of the choices I made as an adult, are unresolved and unexplained. While I have no trouble (now) making conversation and casual connections, I still can't seem to figure out how to make and keep some real friends. And I have pretty much given up on ever having a boyfriend or babydaddy. I'm still a pretty solitary figure. Don't get me wrong, I'm not walking around all tortured by that. I'm not bemoaning the fact that I buy a half-carton of eggs and prefer to sit in the single (handicap) seats at the movies. But if I am the type of person who feels better, or at least more comfortable as a party of one, I would at least like to know how that happened.
There's more, and the therapy will most likely dredge some stuff up I may or may not enjoy dealing with, but I am confident the outcome will be positive. My last round of therapy pretty much got me sober.
On another note, I am BROKE BROKE BROKE!! The plane ticket home is paid for and I will have enough money and available credit to get a few Christmas presents to bring with me, but beyond that, we will be starting the New Year with maxed out credit cards and a woefully depleted checking account. I absolutely need to find a better (better paying) job, either part time as a bartender where I can make real tips, or as a manager where they need someone who is pretty good with numbers and computers, and can be trusted not to get drunk on duty and always balance the safe.
That's it. Gotta go. Busy busy!!