I finished a 900 page novel with a wholly unsatisfying ending yesterday. The author saw fit to leave the main character's fate entirely up to the reader's imagination. While I can understand not spoonfeeding every last detail or tying everything into a tidy closing, this was inexcusable and rude! The experience left me cranky and restless. I tried starting another book, I put a movie on, but nothing was entertaining. I was woken up by an obscenely early call from one of my best friends whose entire deparment was deemed redundant and laid off without warning. I reminded her that both "all things happen for a reason" and that "when a door closes, a window opens" but even as I truly believe those things, they sound horrifically trite as I type them.

Sometime in the last week I misplaced my planner, which has already resulted in agreeing to be in more than one place at the same time twice and two entirely missed dinner engagements. I must get another today or my life may well fall off the rails entirely.

I am considering seeing a therapist again. A particular doc with ADD experience has been highly recommended. I hate starting with a new therapist! Trying to distill my entire history into the inital interview is so tiring. But what if this guy is the one who actually makes some progress with me? My whole life, as I've encountered various potentially traumatic experiences, I've always said, "I'll deal with it when I'm 30 and in therapy." Well, I'm not 30 yet, but I am frightfully close. I wonder if I even can just be entirely honest with a therapist and actually figure everything out. Of course, I would need to be entirely honest with myself first and I don't know how much of my daily coping mechanisms are based in tiny selfdelusions. Hold on boys and girls, we may be embarking on a seriously tumultuous ride. Providing of course, that I gather the necessary courage to book an appointment...

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