I've been going to counseling for over a month, as some know, to overcome what I once thought was depression that turned out to be "complicated grief". I opted for counseling over the drug that my doctor prescribed, which is another story I'll get into another day. Counseling has opened so many wounds. Anger, grief, disappointment, frustration, self reflection and understanding all mix together in the discussions. Sometimes, like today, I come away exhausted, overcome by the emotional out pore. Other sessions are seemingly more light-weight, depending on the topic. I'm thankful my insurance company is covering these sessions. I don't know what the goal is, at what defining moment I'll be done. I just know that getting it all out to someone, someone who can interpret with a professional view, someone who is impartial and without personal history, is exactly what I needed. While I am usually very private about matters like these, I decided to leak it into my blog. I decided a few well intending people might want to know I am taking care of myself and (hopefully) growing from the ashes of my father's death.