I started counseling last week. This time, I am not the counselor. I am seeking counseling.
I spent my first year up here an an HIV test counselor. I loved it. LOVED it. It was the first time I really saw myself changing the world in the way I see it needs to be changed. Clients hugged me, cried on me, and I just knew I was on to something.
After three years in this city, I've developed a love/hate relationship with it. The hate, an awful thing to feel, has taken over lately. I hate the way I can't afford to do anything but pay bills, I hate that I have to walk everywhere and share the bus with crazy people, I hate that my best friends and family are not here, I hate that there is so much crime in the city, I hate that the bus or train is always late, I hate traffic, I hate school because I feel like graduating and using what I've learned, I hate
that I'm not happy.
I'm happy when I leave the city, or rare moments when I stop and look at the lake for a moment. I'm happy with David.
But my unhappiness is starting to blur those moments, and I take it out on David. That's not good.
I don't like who I am right now.
And, for once, the person who is always stretching herself to save the world, is trying to save herself.