Around the time I turned 40, I went to see a therapist, a man who knew me well. I tended call him once or twice a year on an as-needed basis. I had reached the point of being able to sort through most problems on my own. But life had -- as it occasionally does -- grown suddenly complicated.
我40岁生日前后,我去看理疗师,那个医生很了解我。我试图一年按需电话他两三次。我都快可以自己解决所有问题的时候,生活突然变得复杂起来----有时候,生活就是这样。
I had been trying with no success to have a second child. My husband and I werecontemplating egg donation and surrogacy. We had made an abrupt move from New York City to rural Connecticut in the wake of 9/11. My mother had recently died. My little boy had been seriously ill, and I was still reeling from a difficult and frightening year. I found myself questioning everything.
我一直想要生第二个小孩,但一筹莫展。我丈夫和我开始考虑捐献卵子和代孕。911事件后,我们匆匆从纽约搬到康涅狄格州的乡村。那时,我母亲刚过世不久,我儿子还小,却病入膏肓,那年我过得痛苦不堪、心惊胆战,一直缓不过来。我觉得我质疑周遭的一切。
I went through a box of tissues during that hour with my occasional therapist, and as he walked me to the door at the end of the session, I turned to him and asked urgently: does any of this make sense?
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