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I can’t wait to see my therapist…

When I started going to see a counselor I was going once a week. I was nearly manic with anxiety and stress. I had allowed myself to become so emotionally unstable that I would do stupid things, drive fast and angry, take risks, avoid responsibility, contemplate idiotic things like taking sterroids and sometimes I would even drink alcohol to escape my problems. There were other things too, but I won’t go into them here, I mean, that is what I pay a therapist for, to keep my secrets secret.

So things are much better now. I have learned how to deal with my problems, my pain, my addictive personality, my avoidance issues, my lack of self-control, but I am still undeniably human and so I like to visit my therapist just once a month to maintain balance and sort of as maintenance. It’s like having a personal trainer that helps you reach your goals. Once you have gone through a series of workouts you know what to do and you no longer need the coach. However, a monthly check-in is still good for accountability and for additional guidance and to check over-all progress. That is what I do with my therapist now and trust me, it rocks. I can tell him about the extremely stressful weekend I had and how I am currently juggling multiple issues that are out of my control and he can help me deal with it – rationally. I can bitch and moan to him about everything that is bothering me, I can be a big cry baby and get it all out of my system in an hour and he listens and nods and when it is over I feel better and I don’t feel guilty for making my friends carry my burdens or listen to me vent.

 Fortunately, I don’t deal with depression, but I’ve danced with it on occasion.  I understand it’s cruelty and how it incapacitates and cripples. I thank God that I am not on any medication. I am fortunate that I had a friend suggest counseling to me and that I took that step because if I had continuted down the path I was heading I hate to think of what I would have done to myself.

People, seemingly carefree and unencumbered by things of this world, are often times the ones that are hurting the most. Their happy exterior is just a way of hiding the pain because our culture views “neediness or dependency” as weakness.  We are ashamed to ask for help and when we don’t know what else to do, we take a gun and go on a shooting spree, or drive our children into a lake, or jump off a bridge into speeding traffic. When we read about things like this, we don’t understand how this could happen, where did this monster come from?  It could be the person right next to you, a close family memeber, or one day it might even be you.

I hope that you are still praying for the families from Virginia Tech, but also for our nation in general. If we slowed down for a moment and really looked at the world around us it is bruised face covered with makeup and large sunglasses.

If you need help, don’t be afraid to ask for it, you can even ask me.

By Evan Stark

Eddie Renz is an avid fan of Egyptology, Wilbur Smith and bacon. Not a fan of humility but often finds himself humbled when he is around people who understand numbers like the Fibonacci sequence and Pi.

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