Talking head shrink

Over the past few months I’ve been going to see a talking head shrinker (for those not familiar with Burnsy lexicon that’s a psychologist). Today she asked me why I’m so scared of being okay. She’s not willing to settle for my usual answer of having no idea what being okay is and feels like, or that I don’t feel I deserve it, so she (rightfully) pushed me on it. I wasn’t able to come up with an answer and now have been thinking about it all day. And I still don’t have an answer. Well. I have answers, but the answers I have are all paper answers. I know what I’m supposed to say, what I should say, I just don’t know how to say it and mean it.

I think, think, seeing a talking head shrink, seeing a med head shrink, means I’m on the cusp of being okay. Of saying I’m okay and actually meaning it. Of continuing to pursue head shrinking in its various forms. Of getting to a point being okay, pursuing dreams, aren’t the scariest concepts I can come up with. 


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