Welcome to hell. Here’s your ticket.

Oh. My. God.

I’m sure support groups maybe help the people that go to them.  I’m sure.  I mean, they exist.  And people go to them.  So they must do the regular-goers a lot of good.

…

…

um…

…

…

I wasn’t the kind of person they were meant for.

An hour and 45 minutes of sitting in a windowless, colorless, stuffy small room listening to story after story from moms suffering from postpartum whatever while they sniveled and blew their noses into the equally dull, rough hospital-supplied tissue…

yeah.  No.

Then it was my turn.  I was the last one.

I had nothing to say.  I didn’t need any tissue.  I felt like I had tunnel vision really badly and couldn’t hardly breathe.  And this time, James wasn’t on the therapy session to speak for me.

Thank God the session ended right then.  I bolted out of there as fast as I possibly could and didn’t look back.

…

…

It was really bad.

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This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 28th, 2009 at 8:59 pm and is filed under Insanity, Therapy. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

One Response to “Welcome to hell. Here’s your ticket.”

  1. A Note About Post-Baby Weight Says:
    April 19th, 2009 at 11:17 pm

    [...] therapy for the prolapse, medication, mental-health therapy, marriage counseling, one very bad run-in with a support group, and intensive exercise and weights classes… well, I finally let myself [...]