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Showing posts from September, 2016

Therapy Heartbreak

Last September twelve, I woke up feeling tired like I always did from going to bed at four a.m. I have called myself a hopeless insomniac for some time now, so it's gotten to the point I don't even try to go to sleep early anymore. But I must digress from my sleeping problem for now. On this Monday I got up and dressed quickly for I was due for my therapy session at nine a.m with Dr. Michael Hy Rein at Bailey Seaton Hospital. I'd been seeing Dr. Rein who I called Mike by this point, for four years, this year becoming the fourth year.

I was tired, but I was ready as I was most Mondays when I went to see Mike. We didn't have a session the previous Monday since it was Labor Day, and the clinic was closed. I didn't see him for the rest of that week because he was on vacation.

"We're closed next Monday," he had told me. "But I'll be off for the rest of that week too."
"You'll be on vacation?" I asked.
"Yes," he confir…
In the midst of my writing I have taken the time to finish reading Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar a book she had written under the pen name Victoria Lucas back in 1963. It was released a month before her suicide. This book brought me to tears for it has hit home on so many levels. As a fellow writer, and poet who suffers from depression, I can relate with everything the protagonist Esther Greenwood experiences (Esther who is Plath's fiction self)  and I certainly feel for her. Her isolation, her sadness, loneliness, all these things. On a personal level I cried reading this book.. But it's still a good read, and I recommend it unless a depression story is not for you. But then my own novel Love Child was criticized by some for being to depressing to read, but here's the thing about depression. It's an issue a real one, and it does exist. Millions are affected. Not everyone ends up committing suicide, but more than enough do. Many make attempts. Unfortunately, we live…