My counselor moved to a new practice last month.

I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to find a counselor – one you connect with, but it’s a right PITA as you navigate counseling styles and personality fits. But through no small effort, and a couple of whoopsies, I finally found my person – someone who used a mixture of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, Dialectic Behavior Therapy, and Enneagrams (she’s a huge fan). ( For what it’s worth, I’m a “4” “The Individualist” with a Wing 3 and a directional to 1, and while I found it interesting, it also felt a bit like psycho-astrology. Note: that’s not a sleight on those that find it valuable, it’s just my take.)

When left in the wild, without therapy, I tend to feel things in big/dramatic ways; I tend to feel scandalized/indignant over seemingly small things, which can lead to overreacting and blowing things way out of proportion. I also have a habit of thinking really shitty things about myself. In fact, there may have been this thing where someone would leave post-its around the house reminding me that I was trash. They may have been in my handwriting. They may have been hidden when I had company over, only to come back out after everyone left. Look, I don’t judge how you decorate your house. (I do. But it’s usually in a, “oh, wall art – hrmm… that looks nicer than yellow post-its” way.)

True story – we actually discussed that behavior in our last session when she asked I share the tools helped the most. My therapist was genuinely horrified. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that?” “I dunno. I wasn’t ready to share that with you. ” And the truth was, I didn’t want to tell her, because I didn’t want to stop, but we got there and I did.

During the time I saw her, my therapist gave me healthier ways to cope as I move through this world..

As our time came to an end, I joked that without her, the wheels were going to fall off my cart. Look out world!

Then this week happened.

In no particular order, and without going into details:

• I received a critique regarding my creativity that popped me hard on the chin which turned into, “I’m trashing the blog and I’ll never write again.” (See note about overreactions.)
• A close friend received a terrifying diagnosis, and wept as they shared their fears and discussed their prognosis
• A battle erupted that began with the fun words, ” Let Beth decide! BETH!!!!!” There was an hour and a half of yelling and tears – an HOUR AND A HALF. Woot.
• And my Dad (who is ok now) went into ICU.

You know it’s bad when you receive two separate offers to pay for you to see your counselor at their new office from friends. “Do you want to talk to her, I will pay.”

Thank you, friends!

But I promise to them and you that as of this moment, the wheels have not come off this wagon. The tools used to help me cope really locked things down fairly tightly. She did a great job there.

That’s the story.

However, let me share one unrelated sweet thing my counselor did. She has a ritual for the last sessions she has with clients where she takes your name and creates an acronym. Here’s the one she created for me:

B – Beautiful (inside and out)
E – Elegant / Entertaining
T – Tenacious
H – Humorous

She added on the last one that I was the funniest person she knew. 🙂 Clearly, she has amazing and refined taste. And this also speaks volumes about how brilliant she is!

Anywho, I know she’s paid to be kind, but I thought that was a rather lovely way to end .

Thanks for letting me share.

This post is dedicated to Anna and Julie who encouraged me to never stop, and suggested I go back to my roots of writing honestly even when it’s hard (and maybe not funny).