I did it.
I finally made an appointment to speak to a therapist. My anxiety is not getting any better and my husband can't be confined to our home at all times so...something has to be done.
I'm a little nervous about what will transpire but Danny assures me there will be no lying on couches and talking about my father. At least not right away.
I came to the conclusion that this has to happen when I found myself seriously considering asking my family doctor AKA Dr.Dummy - you remember her from such quotes as "two miscarriages, not that big a deal" and my personal favorite "I don't see how hormones have anything to do with heart palpitations" - for some anti anxiety meds. I don't condemn people who take medication, don't get me wrong. I just shy away from that if I haven't tried everything else possible. If therapy doesn't help I would seriously consider taking something.
But for now, Wednesday I will spill my guts to qualified ears for 100$ an hour.
This better work.
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