Here's why I could never be a mental health therapist. I would die of curiosity. Today Dr. Mind was trying to get me to quit sobbing (apparently when I say something is upsetting me I am deadly serious); I said "this tends to make me cry and then sobbed for a very long time". But some of his positive words led me to start talking about this blog, of all things. I was talking about how incredibly good it has been for me since I started talking much more openly about my life and the abuse and the effects of bipolar. I was talking about how much support I get here, from Michal's little devotionals to comments that mean the world to me. And somewhere in there I realized UH-OH, I just told Dr. Mind one of my biggest secrets.
He could find it. I'd not know; I never look where people are from, and he could easily have a service like mine that says I'm from Columbus Ohio, which is hours away from here; it's not even the closest city. If you know enough about me you can find this easily and he certainly knows. But ethically he can't. I don't think, anyway. And that would be TORMENT to me.
Too tired for more tonight. This may be one more lighter posting week. I'm exhausted, my work computer broke and I may have to write things out for the next few days, I had a bad day with asthma today, and I have a weird work schedule. However, I have a 3 day weekend and the only thing on the book is a visit with Dr. Mind.
For now, it's time to try to sleep.