Thanks, Lost. It went okay. I told her a couple of hard-to-say things. Felt like she kinda didn't really understand the importance of either of them. One she sat there and called an "excuse" and I said no it's not, it's a realization about myself that I'm working on accepting, and saying it out loud helps me do that. How is that an excuse? And she told me I was "flying high" when I came in there. I really wonder what that woman has against me feeling happy. I really do. I went in there feeling good about my poetry stuff, basically, not "flying high"; just in a good mood. Which fairly quickly became pensive and almost sullen.

Meh. Therapy is stupid.