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During this process I’m going through to adjust to the new "options" in my life, I’ve come up with all sorts of projects that for some reason, I have deemed worthwhile. One is this blog, another is the huge makeover I will receive on Saturday for the new me. Yet another is trying to learn to have my picture taken, as it’s always been a painful process for me to go through. One of these steps I’ve decided on is to seek professional guidance. My first appointment with a psychologist is tomorrow, and I find myself continually guarding against the preconceived notion that I could walk in and find Gabriel Byrne sitting across from me in cozy living room, wanting nothing more than to talk to me and dole out bits of fabulous wisdom. For those of you who don't have HBO or haven't had a chance to watch it yet, I've been enjoying the series "In Treatment" starring Gabriel Byrne as the psychologist in question. He's handsome, soft spoken, fatherly, has that rich, soothing Irish accent, and encompasses all the skills a girl needs to be put at ease when having her first appointment with a shrink that specializes in "sexual dysfunction". (Is it really dysfunction if you just haven't done it yet??) I know I have to guard myself against this expectation - Gabriel Byrne is an actor, not a psychologist, and the reason he sounds so brilliant is that his lines were written by no less than SIX professional writers (I looked it up) and Mr. Byrne was able to practice the aforesaid lines as many times as he liked, until they came out "just right". My councilor will not have any of these luxuries. I will speak to him at the end of his day, when he's as ready to leave his job as I was ready to leave mine two hours before. He will have no one giving him note cards of what to say or how to say it, and he won't get to practice ahead of time. He's just a man, who in theory wants to help people, and had some schooling to do so. I believe that will be enough. I'm not looking for a magic bullet, or some sudden "cure" to every insecurity I ever had; and really, I feel happier and healthier every day on my own; so it's not like he's having to peel me off the pavement. I'm just looking for any smart insight I could miss myself, or wouldn't have thought of, since I'm so close to the situation. Still, the visions of Gabriel and his Irish brogue flit through my head like gift wrapped boxes in a young girl's dream on Christmas Eve, and I caution myself again - do not have overly high expectations; what will come is what you need, and it will be enough. I feel badly about it, but who knows; maybe at this very moment, my psychologist-to-be is at home, wishing that his 6:00 appointment for Thursday will end up being Julia Roberts.
