The Corpse Chapel
What do you do when the thing you once loved most reveals itself to be ugly and cruel, and in so doing, tears a hole right through the center of your existence?
There’s a meme that’s been going around for a while that says, “Men would rather do [insert absurd thing here] than do therapy.”
It’s funny because it’s accurate.
I’ve tried therapy. I haven’t found therapy that works for me yet. My last attempt was supposed to help deal with religious trauma, but the guy I wound up talking to couldn’t help himself - he wanted to argue with me about my conclusions when it comes to faith. I looked him up on LinkedIn, and sure enough, he had a Catholic University in his educational background. I’d found him through BetterHelp, and I was definitely NOT looking for a therapist who shared my former religious beliefs, so it was an unfortunate coincidence. Suffice to say, when I had to stop my sessions for a bit for an unrelated reason, I wasn’t eager to resume them.
I would rather deconstruct my religious experience in public than do therapy, apparently. (At least until I find someone who can actually help.)
So allow me to bleed for a moment, on this fine Sat…
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