Unemployment and feeling stuck makes you think some pretty weird things. Lately, it’s been giving me a bunch of anxiety and I am not a fan. I’m usually more of a “Woe is me, everything is corrupt and the world is only getting worse” kind of a person, but this time it’s different.
I can’t stress enough how important it is to get outside. The outdoors does wonders for your mental and physical health. Lately, I’ve been using my free time to reflect, work on my physical health, and ruminate on plans for the future by hiking with my brother’s dog.
I am nineteen and sitting in the campus counselor’s office. Her room is sunny and overlooks the quad, where boys in shorts toss frisbees with shouts and girls in floral shirts clump together at a picnic table, laughter and chatter floating above their open laptops. I look down at my hands, fidgeting in my lap, as I wait for Alexa to sit down in the arm chair across from me.
The arrangement of the room is more suggestive of a conversation between friends than therapy–– we’re both in arm chairs, a small table between us. Her notebook lies on the table when she isn’t writing. On the first day she explained this to me:
“I keep it there because I want you to be able to know what I’m writing, if you’d like.”