The Dave Ramsey Diet

My husband is obsessed with Dave Ramsey... not in a creepy way... just in a "Lets pay off all of our bills save every penny we have and be financially free with our lives." Don't get me wrong.... I agree to an extent. I do not like shopping, hate it actually... however with this financial diet that we are on, I feel as though I have to ask to spend our money on anything... I mean grocery shopping I feel bad spending money on food. I'm to the point where I want him to go or go with me so I know it is okay to spend our money.

Which brings me to my point. I've been thinking more and more lately about wanting to see a therapist. I've come to a mental block that I can not work out on my own. Part of me is hoping that by blogging I will unlock and master this block that way I won't have to feel like an idiot sitting in a room with a stranger starting my entire story over and re-living aloud the emotional roller coaster of the past 5 1/2 years. I suppose part of me is using money as a way out... not wanting to "ask permission" to spend our money to get me help. I feel as though I re-live my past enough that paying someone to listen will just be so much harder. Hell most of my friends don't even know about Olivia. I suppose you could call them friends, more of an acquaintance I should say, what type of freak keeps something like that from their friends?

After I returned home from the hospital after having Olivia I went into my "checkup" at my doctor, she knew of my "Situation" and prescribed me anti-depressants. Being 18 I took them for three days decided they wouldn't help me and stopped taking them. Part of me now wonders if they could have helped. Would I still be as depressed today as I am now? Sheesh. I hate what if scenarios. They always seem to creep up on me.

Awhile back I received a comment saying I should keep talking to Jon about everything that I think about. I'm so afraid that he is tired of listening and will get tired of hearing the same things because I can't finish everything I need to say without breaking down.

Once again a fluster cuck of a blog entry. sorry.