“How has your mood been in the last two weeks?”

“I feel like I am spinning out of control… like I’ve fallen off the wagon and not just hit rock bottom, but started to dig. I feel like yes, I am in this hole. This is where I want to be for now. I’ve been overeating, overdrinking, overeverything the last few days. I gave myself a limit. I said, ‘Ok, you can have this weekend. Do whatever you want, however much of it you want, but on Monday, it all comes to an end and your carriage turns back into a pumpkin.'”

“What do you think fueled that binge?” she asked.

“Anger,” I said. “So much anger that I’ve been holding in these last few weeks. And frustration.”

“When your binge came to an end, how did you feel?” she asked.

“Awful,” I said. “Worse because now I have to recover from the binge.”

Therapy is such a taboo subject. It’s often assumed that if you’re seeing a therapist, you’re probably dealing with some serious mental health issues. Sometimes it’s not though. Sometimes it’s just about applying rational thinking to actions.

I openly talk about going to a therapist. I don’t flaunt it, but I don’t hide it either. I’ve learned so much from it because it brings a level of awareness to my actions that I wouldn’t otherwise be able to address. I’ve always believed that enlightenment is the first step to making things better.

If I’m having an off week, like I have been lately, one of the first things we always look at is where in my life am I lacking? Or what am I getting too much of? What is causing me stress?

Last week, I went for a walk in the middle of the day for the first time in weeks. My view from the park bench was much different from what I remembered. The trees were full of leaves now, bringing shade to the benches below. The park fountains were bubbling. This was a much different park from what I remembered and it reminded me that I’ve been so far off the path.

I think I’ve removed the source of the stress, now it’s just a matter of returning the balance.