In Love

I had a happy reunion with my psychiatrist today. It'd been a few weeks since we'd seen each other, practically an eternity. He'd gone on a trip and told me a bit about it, and it sounds like he had a great time. We chatted a bit about the work of organizing vacations, and I told him about graduation and my new apartment.

I told him about a nightmare I had a couple nights ago, where I dreamed I had terminal cancer, and it was somehow very real in the dream that I did not much have life left, and that I had to say goodbye to my loved ones (my 4-year-old nephew did not seem to understand). I awoke and realized immediately that it was "just a dream," but that feeling of... I don't know, the ticking clock, the terror of leaving the world very soon, did not fade easily. I'm still somewhat shaken by it.

Anyway, it was wonderful to tell him all my thoughts, and to be able to get everything off my chest. I can tell him things that I don't tell other people -- not that they're secrets, exactly, but really the inner workings of one's mind can make other people uncomfortable. Civilians. Heh. Two or three times during the session I grinned at him and said "I'm so happy to see you!" I think he was glad to see me too. Hopefully it won't be too difficult to schedule our sessions for the coming year.