My therapist is tired of hearing me complain. She wants me to finally take responsibility for my life, and admit the truth that everything is my fault.

It's not her, or them, or you, or anybody...it's me. It's all me.

Hey, I can do that. I can take responsibility all day long. No relationship? I have issues with men. Still coughing? Eat too much sugar. Loud drunk people who yell in the alley outside my window? I chose to live by the beach. Unemployed? I quit my job. Hot sun? I drive my car, when I could take the bus, thereby, aiding in the destruction of the environment through fumes (or something like that).

It's just...why does she get to come off so squeaky clean? Where do I sign up for her job...?

Just for today, I can listen to my shrink (sort of).