I was raised by Sonny who believes everyone should pull themselves up by their bootstraps although none of us have straps on our boots. He can be an old cold turd but he never found himself in the throes of a full blown postpartum depression with three small children and all my friends away at school. The doctor who diagnosed me back in the 70's called it the housewife syndrome and prescribed Valium, hello Valley of the Dolls. I took a couple and felt the same as I did drinking beer so I didn't see the point and the pills went down the toilet..
About this time I went back to school, left my husband and that counselor and got a job. And after nine years I found myself in a relationship with another jerk and back on the couch again. I knew I was in trouble when the new counselor opened his calendar book and there were Biblical sayings on each little square.
I dumped those chumps and now Big Dave sits at my dinner table every night but I am still making appointments. Dave has PTSD thanks to a purposeless war and I just don't like being married even if it is the logical place for me right now. I need some adjustment cues and I think I'm going to like Laurie, the new therapist on the block. She is a self-named loner married to a neurotic doctor. At first I thought she was too perky, I don't do perky and I was irritated by the "what the hecks" and "gosh darns" that peppered her conversation, but I got over it. I just might stick around for more than two sessions.