Two weeks ago

I woke up to a grimly pleasant morning and got up thinking that despite major turmoil, I was still on an even keel, and thus was now, finally an adult. My shrink disabused me of this notion. I thought that to be grown up meant to supress despair and to never ask for help. I also thought that criticism was an acceptable part of normal discourse. Not to be overly dichotomously binary about things, but these ideas were wrong wrong wrong.

And the two weeks since have been a lot like being caught up in a tornado and getting wacked repeatedly with flying debris. Not a happy event at all, but an opportunity for growth, as my shrink might say. I'm going to be a happier, more stable person at the end of this, but getting there really sucks. I would really like just to drop down in Oz right now.