Today was my first therapy session. Larry (roadrunner) thought it would be helpful if I shared my experience. Here goes....

I had never received therapy before. Therapy was a place I thought crazy adults go to when they need extreme help. My sanity has been questionable at times, but I would never have said I needed professional help. I am a strong, independent person who is perfectly capable of dealing with my own issues. This was my attitude going into therapy. If it weren't for my mom and step-dad, I probably wouldn't have sought out therapy at all.

My step-dad, and my mom, felt it was necessary I see a therapist because of a few recent personal issues I'm dealing with as an abused teenager. I think they both really want to help me yet they have no idea how. My relationship with my parents has been rocky over the years, especially with my step-dad (my previous step-dad sexually abused me). I guess by trying to find help for me they are caring about me the best way they can.

I don't like the idea of having to ask for help. I'd rather be stoic and strong than have to allow my weaknesses to show. The reality is... I do need help. I am hurting badly on the inside by things that seem to just not go away. I'm not sure any one can help some things in my life, but I'm willing to try.

The drive to my therapist's office was dreadful. I had to prepare myself because I knew my personal "secrets" would soon be exposed to a complete stranger. I kept going over worst-case scenarios in my head. I feared the therapist guy would sexually abuse me. That made complete sense to me at the time and it made me extremely pissed off at my parents for wanting it to happen.

When we arrived at my therapists "office" I was a bit surprised. From the outside, it looked like a crummy, run down old house. I didn't expect for a house to be in the middle of the downtown area. But I'm not complaining about it. I think it's cool that this therapist decided to go an unconventional route. A regular business building would be way scarier to enter than an inviting home.

Immediately inside the house were these two couches facing each other. My parents went in first and sat down side by side on one couch. I decided to take the opposite couch, sitting across from a beaten, old door with a sign that reads "THERAPY IN SESSION: Do Not Enter". It kind of calmed me to take a scope of the house while I waited. Classical music was playing loud enough to drown whatever conversation the therapist was having in his session. The walls were a deep shade of pink or a light shade of purple, as were the couches. I found these things kind of overly feminine, but hey... I'm not one to judge.

It's.... 1:30 AM and I've lost track where I was headed with this reflection. Since I have to wake up in about six hours to go to prison... I mean to go to school... I am going to skip to the end of the session. The important things I learned from therapy are: 1. My therapist is a cool guy 2. He beats having to talk to my parents about these things and 3. Feelings are important. Hopefully, this therapy will continue to be a positive experience for me.