I’ve debated spending the $150.00 an hour to pay someone to listen to me whine… I mean vent. After all, if they are being paid, they can’t exactly roll their eyes at me, or just tune me out. Therapists are usually expected to come up with something intelligent in response too. It’s tempting…
But, then, I think about all the clothes and books I could buy with $150.00, and well… I have my own method of therapy.
Since I was a little girl, I’ve always had the same way of coping when life got to be too much. I’d escape to my room, shut the door, pick up a book and lose myself. There’s something about being lost in someone else’s world – where my world has melted away, and nothing is expected of me. It’s addictive. And, it just about always makes me feel better…
And on the rare occasions it doesn’t, all I need is a pen to spill my thoughts, to chase out the words churning in my mind, so that I can close my eyes and dream – and wake up in the morning to start a new day.
Inspired by prompt no. 1) What’s your therapy? over at Josie’s Writing Workshop














