At A Loss For Words

The frequency of my blog posts have taken a steep decline since my son lost his life to suicide last month. I usually push myself to post 8-12 times a month. So far, this is my second blog post and the month is nearly over.

I have been going to therapy for dealing with grief. During my appointments, I spend most of my time crying and speaking gibberish that even I can't understand. I often wonder if doctors in the mental health field have the similar gift of translation to those of dentists. 

Those in the field of dentistry exhibit the innate power to decipher the slurred speech of patients who are under the influence of mouth numbing, drool producing drugs. 

Therapists in the mental health field grasp the capability to make sense of sob interrupted, partial sentences and phrases that are unintelligible to the untrained ear.

I would like to think that my mental health providers get some idea of what I try to communicate. 

Last year while taking classes at a local community college I decided to become a psychologist. While I was attending school I considered enrolling in an acting course so that I could learn how to play the role of a good therapist. I felt the need to acquire the skill to stop expressing my every thought and emotion the instant it enters my mind. Although I trust my doctors, I would like to think that they would have taken the class, "Understanding the Unintelligible" instead of "Acting 101".

For the next few months, my schedule will be changed to posting once week while I grieve the loss of my son. In the meantime, I will mix the topics of bipolar disorder and grief and loss. Hopefully I will get back to my regular schedule sooner than later.