For the past few weeks I have been trying a new therapy with my long-suffering psychologist. I’ve been seeing her since 2009, hoping she could pop my heart back into place, then looking for some direction in life, then having a mental breakdown, then just general crying and whatever.
She is an excellent therapist. I am a person who is frustrated by platitudes and who cannot abide spouting them in favour of actual tactics. Telling me to “let it go” or “live authentically” will send me into a spiral of despair so dire that I may end up just binging on Gilmore Girls for several weeks, because that’s what my authentic self would do. What I like about my counsellor is that she says, “Try doing this actual thing. And if that doesn’t work, we can try this literal technique, or this set of tasks that really exists.”