Post by Barey Alexander Ridgemont on Aug 1, 2012 19:53:10 GMT -7
barey a. ridgemont
34. MALE. WEREWOLF. STRAIGHT.
I never used to want to be a therapist. When I was a kid I wanted to be an astronaut. Or an ice cream driver. Or something else extremely cool and unlikely like that. But...sometimes you get locked into a career you don't necessarily think you want. I'm just good with people, sure I'm sarcastic and can be a bit of a snarkfest but people just always seemed to have to urge to open up to me and I just never felt the need to stop them. In high school my guidance councilor told me I should look into therapy and low and behold I really liked it. There was just something fulfilling about helping someone sort out their life. Knowing you helped them be okay.
That was my wife's favorite thing about me she always said, before she died. She made me promise I wouldn't be sad, that I wouldn't break down at her funeral, we had lived our lives together. We were happy. I told her I couldn't keep them. She laugh and told me at least I was being honest. I think if any husband can have their last moments with their wife it should be like that. Smiling and laughing, just like normal. I'm always going to love her, but I know I need to start moving on. To start pulling myself out of the shell I hid in after he death. And I honestly have many of my patients to thank for that. One in particular, who asked what was wrong. We talked about me that session. I didn't charge her.
Oh! Hold on! Before you go! There's actually one little tiny itty bitty thing I forgot to mention. it's not a big deal honestly, in fact depending on your perspective it can be kinda cute. I'm all...well let's just say I get fluffy during the full moon. And maybe there are a few parts of me that are more...wel let's say instinctual then others. I'm intelligent, yes, but that doesn't mean I can always think with my head. It just means that sometimes I have the option and when I do take the option it turns out very well for me. But there are certain things that just aren't an option. Let's just leave it at that shall we. How about you? Tell me about yourself?
I have a knack for that, turning the conversation away from myself. I have many friends, some I've known since high school, and they couldn't tell you my mother's name or who I lost my virginity to. I bet some of them couldn't even name my favorite drink. It's a skill and a bit of a shield I think. There's fear in me, I think, that I'm gonna forget my wife. But at the same time there's the fear that I'm going to be alone. That no one will want a man who's a widower at 34. And that's why as therapists the first thing you learn is never self-diagnose. But if I were to give a stab at it I think I'm still working through the grieving process. Some days are easier, some days are harder. I know I'll get by though, eventually I'll find someone who my wife will approve of and she'll be happy knowing I'm happy. And I think that's really what keeps me out there meeting people nowadays.
That was my wife's favorite thing about me she always said, before she died. She made me promise I wouldn't be sad, that I wouldn't break down at her funeral, we had lived our lives together. We were happy. I told her I couldn't keep them. She laugh and told me at least I was being honest. I think if any husband can have their last moments with their wife it should be like that. Smiling and laughing, just like normal. I'm always going to love her, but I know I need to start moving on. To start pulling myself out of the shell I hid in after he death. And I honestly have many of my patients to thank for that. One in particular, who asked what was wrong. We talked about me that session. I didn't charge her.
Oh! Hold on! Before you go! There's actually one little tiny itty bitty thing I forgot to mention. it's not a big deal honestly, in fact depending on your perspective it can be kinda cute. I'm all...well let's just say I get fluffy during the full moon. And maybe there are a few parts of me that are more...wel let's say instinctual then others. I'm intelligent, yes, but that doesn't mean I can always think with my head. It just means that sometimes I have the option and when I do take the option it turns out very well for me. But there are certain things that just aren't an option. Let's just leave it at that shall we. How about you? Tell me about yourself?
I have a knack for that, turning the conversation away from myself. I have many friends, some I've known since high school, and they couldn't tell you my mother's name or who I lost my virginity to. I bet some of them couldn't even name my favorite drink. It's a skill and a bit of a shield I think. There's fear in me, I think, that I'm gonna forget my wife. But at the same time there's the fear that I'm going to be alone. That no one will want a man who's a widower at 34. And that's why as therapists the first thing you learn is never self-diagnose. But if I were to give a stab at it I think I'm still working through the grieving process. Some days are easier, some days are harder. I know I'll get by though, eventually I'll find someone who my wife will approve of and she'll be happy knowing I'm happy. And I think that's really what keeps me out there meeting people nowadays.
BEE - ADMIN EDIT - DAVID TENNANT.
