I have therapy coming up on Wednesday. It’s been scheduled for two or so months as we just scheduled a bunch all at once. And, let me tell you, God must have known because, wow, do I need me some therapy this week.

I’m trying not to get down on myself for needing some therapy this week. I mean, it’s summer (okay, not quite)! And the sun is shining! And it’s finally warm! And we’re doing great things as a family! And! And! And!

But man, my rough moments are rough as of late. I’m beating myself up for stuff completely out of my control. And, minus my Husband, I’m not “getting it out” anywhere. It’s all bottled up inside. And just in the past week, I’ve started to feel really overwhelmed by all of it. Yes, yes, I know that bottling it up serves no purpose.

But sometimes, when you either can’t make heads or tails of how you’re feeling anyway and/or you have no safe place in which to vent/cry/ask questions, well, bottling is the only resort. Even paper journaling has fallen by the wayside as I find myself emotionally paralyzed and unable to make sense of these feelings when they do try to move to the surface.

Either therapy will be immensely productive and helpful this week. Or really silent. One of the two.