Shrunk down to size

Today is the day that my partner has been waiting for; the day I go to a psychologist and get all my emotional crap out on the table. It's going to be one of those days I think....following my appointment, I'm going for a pap smear. Great. More probing.

Originally, I was going to go for some counseling after Jack died. That was the frosting on my delicate cake (baby-making stress, concussion stress, work stress...). At the time, I chose not to talk about it here on my blog. I made the appointment and was rarin' to go, but had to cancel it (that was a couple months ago, the day we went in for the HSG). And now, I've finally decided that in fact I should reschedule the appointment and go. Life has caught up with me, and I need a little guidance.

My partner is very supportive. She truly is my rock. But she has trouble herself coping if I start to get a little panicked or worrisome. She has encouraged me to go and see a professional, even if I'm a little hesitant.

I have never thought that I would be that person who needs counseling. It's not how I was raised, it's not what I witnessed in any of my friends or their families. But what I've come to realize is that it doesn't make me a weaker person; it makes me real. No one talks about their struggles and getting help because everyone thinks that no one else can empathize with their situation. No one else has been there and everyone will judge you. It's a huge reason why I started this blog; there are many people who have been there, and we should share our experiences instead of hiding them. No one is going to put a giant red letter on me or anyone I care about no matter their experience.

Now, if only I had the balls to tell my mother I was going to a shrink.