him...

sometimes, it makes me wonder... is it really therapy? does he really focus on the psychological part of my problems or is he really the type where he is more into prescribing meds to help with the symptoms. I am not really sure which is which... it's always about meds... it's always like that... it's not that I hate seeing him, it's not that I dread the sessions.... it's not that at all... in fact, I kinda enjoy talking to him, I've learnt a lot that I wouldn't have otherwise, learnt alot about what my text books couldn't teach, learnt a lot about life and living in itself....

yet, time and again, I question... I really do hate this part of me that questions everything that comes in sight.... I keep wondering and seeking answers in areas that perhaps is better left unknown, untouched.... I keep wanting to know more about things that perhaps is just not the right time for me yet... yet, I keep wanting to... I lack the patience that I truly need so badly... I need the wisdom of being able to look at different situations and act accordingly.... I am just too self centred....

we talk about Freud, about his other patients, about so many other things, but never really directly about me... I know well though that no matter how far fetch it all seemed, somehow it's all related to me in one way or another... but it's just that it's always turning around in circles... beating around the bush... it's never directly, simply about me.

perhaps he's doing it for my good, perhaps he is being cautious, not wanting to make me think more that I should, worry more than I already am... perhaps, it's more of wanting me to use my head for once and not just simply rely on everyone else and direct information for answers... perhaps, it's to encourage me... to let me know that I am not alone...

on one hand, I really wished that he would talk to me directly about the issue at hand and not about other things... on the other, I am somewhat greatful that he's not interrogrative.... and doesn't rush me.... where he isn't like Rabin who made it straight to the point, with my file on his desk, wide open and all... and with me selecting my words so that it doesn't end up being scribbled in his file of mine something to show that I've gone insane...

with him, this was never the case.... I can say what I want, when I want, however much I want.... there really is no limit, there really is no rules... it's like talking to a friend who is really well read and patient... it's like I am being given a time space of an hour a month to either be spent venting, or simply listening to stories and reflecting on them....

it is nice in a way....
yea...

I guess, I shouldn't really be thinking so much... in the main thing is still that I don't collapse, that I don't break down... that I will remain sane even when life is trying to convince me to take the other path down insanity....