Coffee Shop Counselling

I have an addiction. Okay if I am honest I have a few addictions. And I love every single one of them. No, this is not my version of Amy Winehouse’s song Rehab, and by no means do I take addictions lightly. Some addictions are entirely debilitating and I would be the first to encourage a friend to get help, but as for my addictions I don’t think I need help just yet. Call me a nerd, a dork (wow I haven’t used that word in a while) or a loser but my addictions are slightly more soft-core than alcohol or drugs. I am currently fulfilling one of my addictions as I sit and sip on my Cappuccino with foam, listening to a religious debate happening on my left and watching an awkward coffee date on my right.

I love coffee shops. The quirkier the better. The more isolated the more I love them. This is not merely because I love coffee, or tea (though I do). Nor is it because I love not having to make the coffee myself or to clean up afterwards (though trust me I do appreciate this). It is because the introvert in me, loves being around people yet being by myself. Sometimes I write, sometimes I study, sometimes I just sit and people watch. Breathing in the company of others but enjoying my own thoughts.

Today in particular, I am using it as an escape, I sort of cheaper version of therapy. It is an emotional day for me, for various reasons, but let’s not get into that. The girls I live with have shown me support since I woke up, my family has harassed me with unconditional love all day. Yet here I sit, just me and my thoughts. This might seem like a cry for help- who on earth wants to be alone around others when upset. Well that would be me. It makes me feel alive, it makes me feel at peace. It somehow makes me feel more normal. More human.

In fact most of my therapy methods would be seen as unconventional. Other than coffee shops, another favourite is escaping into one of my favourite books. This is often Harry Potter (and on more than one occasion I have reread all 7 books before feeling normal again), occasionally it is Jane Austen that offers the most sympathy and every now and again it is AA Milne and my childhood friends that have the most wisdom. This therapy is often accompanied by another, which is a blanket fort, I dare you to feel sad or scared in a blanket fort. This is easily made and the more you make them the better you get at it. I have an emergency kit handy complete with battery operated fairy lights to set the perfect mood. The last one is for when I am sad. Go to your computer, type in “Baby laughs at ripping paper” and I dare you not to laugh at the squealing innocent laughter that peels through your headphones. Okay maybe babies aren’t your thing, try typing in “Post wisdom teeth operations, funny”. The  things those people come up with will make the most hardcore drug addicts jealous. How did that woman think she would be Nicki Minaj when she woke up? Or the boy that thinks he become Mexican while having his teeth removed. Or the other boy who can’t figure out why his eyes keep leaking and is absolutely amazed by clouds. Funny animal pictures, yet another winner. And actually animals in general for that matter.

And finally as the cloud has lifted and my therapy method has worked I venture back into reality, let my family love me, let my roomates support me and my friends take me out for a treat. Whatever therapy works I guess.


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