Blog of Josh Hall

When I was around 7 or so, my parents decided to split.  I don’t remember particularly why, but it was decided that J’aime and I both needed to see psychiatrists as a result.  Actually, I don’t remember if J’aime started at the same time as I did or not, all I know is right around that time, I started seeing Cindy.  From memory, she was in her 30s, dirty blonde hair to her shoulders, not too over weight, but not overly attractive either.  Anyway, I’d go see her, I think once a week, and she had this black garbage bag (in retrospect, you’d think she’d have a better storage solution) full of toys that she’d let me play with as she played with me and probably used mind tricks to have me reveal my feelings.  I was actually pretty open to this, and want to say I grew pretty attached to meeting with her.  Heck, it was surely better than beating my forehead against the door frame when my parents started fighting…(again on retrospect…perhaps that’s why they sent me to therapy??).  I have no idea how long I saw Cindy, but I remember that she came to my graduation ceremony one here.  She sat right in the middle of the room, right pews, first seat in.  I still remember walking down and being so happy and surprised to see her.

Somewhere along the way though, Cindy decided to get married and move to Connecticut or some other New England state.  It was sudden and unexpected, but perhaps that was their plan.  I remember crying at home once; crying to talk to Cindy.  I can remember my mom trying to find her number in the phone book or some way to get in contact with her.  I don’t think we ever did.

I think I was done with head doctors for a while, until I went to see Mark.  Mark was a mid 20s guy, slim, tan, wore a thin gold chain, and pretty energetic.  I remember thinking his wife was pretty attractive, so he must have been some sort of lady’s man.  He was cool.  Probably too cool for me.  He talked about playing basketball one day with me, but we’d play waste basketball in his office instead.  I think i saw him for a while, and it was good having a guy to talk to, but like i said, I think he was just too cool and energetic for me.

I know I’ve been to at least 1 other therapist, Rod, but he was more like a family therapist that we all saw at times.  Although I do not have the scientific pleasure of being objective and can only rely on introspection, I feel that shrinks were a waste of time and money, at least for me.  Therapy, by that I mean an act, hobby, or some sort of interaction or escape is invaluable though.  Legos — Therapy.  Guitar — Therapy.  Driving long distance — Therapy.  This blog — Therapy. 

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Tags: basketball, Connecticut, family, family therapist, guitar, happy, home, LEGO, mom, money, New England, play, Rod, storage solution, therapist