who needs therapy.

The eternal question. Who does or does not need therapy? Who is considered normal, i.e. not needing therapy, and who is the abnormal, the weird, confused, depressed. Could we not all benefit from talking to somebody who is entirely objective about our problems, unload it on them for an hour, and hear their perspective on it. Their judgment wouldn’t be clouded by the fact they love us, and are scared of hurting us, like our friends and family would, who we regularly go to in times of crisis. Talking to a stranger probably could do everyone a bit of good. Why then is there the stigma of going to therapy? Why, when discussing with a friend about how I cried the past two times when I have drank more than usual, did he interrupt me to say, “maybe you should think about therapy.” This struck a nerve. Why me? Am I not normal? Is crying a bad thing? Have I crossed the threshold from cute to scary? I am currently scared that my friend may be right. That yes, I may need therapy. However, I am also of the opinion that I know what is wrong. Or that I am in my twenties and know nothing and that I am okay with that. I don’t need a therapist to delve into my psyche to tell me why I feel a certain way, why I feel alternatively angry, sad, and then happy again when I block out the former feelings. I continue to be disappointed with the way people behave around me and I cannot help but feel sad about this. We are all going to die, and yet we behave in such a way that suggests that we will have all the time in the world to correct our mistakes. This is not the case.  People should be more aware of their mortality, because then perhaps they would act accordingly, and be kinder to others and more considerate. People might take more action, go for what they want, be daring, take risks, build relationships, be friendly, be better. However, people don’t. People do not know how to be. This angers me. Do I need therapy? Maybe. But then so does everybody.