(Untitled)

[__prefectgirl]

I always thought I would be the last person to see a therapist. I thought I was... somewhat well-adjusted. Somewhat. Maybe that was before.

But after everything that happened, and then hearing about Seamus over some internet journal thing (why did no-one tell me this!), I just needed someone to talk to. And I was told I can't go back to work unless

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[theworldofvain]

I was walking down the hall at St. Mungo's and an actual therapist came up to me. He said, 'Darling, you look a mite tired. Would you like to pop in for a session?'

I said no, but maybe he's right. He should be talking to us all, maybe.

[theworldofvain]

Or he could have just been a pervert.

[bloodserpent]

Bastard. He stole my line.

[theworldofvain]

Too bad that I would've given the exact same answer, eh?

[_indian_goddess]

I'm starting to think we all need a good session. Maybe if we just talk to each other. Be more open, or something. I am starting to worry about certain people. I don't want them to hurt when I could be doing something to help.

[forgedinart]

I'm not going to see some quack, if that's what you're getting at. I don't need some shrink telling me what I already know. I told you that already, Vati.

[_indian_goddess]

But you shouldn't shut it down straight away. It might help. If you're not going to embrace the truth and talk to me about it, I'll find a way to get you to talk to somebody. Even if it means a "shrink," whatever that is.

[forgedinart]

I don't need to go through this with you again. There's nothing wrong. Just let me get on with it on my own.

[allthingsdivine]

You know what you need, Granger? To be pissed drunk and not caring.

Party. My girls' and my London flat. This weekend. Be there.

[__prefectgirl]

A party? I'm not sure what being surrounded by drunks would accomplish right now, Daphne.