Adventures in PSYCHO-therapy

I went to a new therapist today. I'm not one of those people who lives my life in a therapist office, and is constantly doling out pearls of wisdom proceeded by "My therapist says." This new blogging thing is a therapy I discovered for myself. The therapist is another attempt to figure out what I'm doing wrong and what can I do to fix it. Medicine won't fix me. The therapist wont' fix me. But can she tell me what I need to do to fix myself?

Again, this is a new therapist. She's the 3rd person I've tried in the last 3 years. My first attempt at psychotherapy was in 2005 when I had what can best be described as a borderline mental breakdown. I got a phone number at random from my insurance company and gave this stranger a call. She was nice enough. She subscribed to the Stuart Smalley school of therapy. "You're good enough, smart enough, and gosh darnnit people like you!" Great, thanks for the kind words, but if I wanted to hear someone blow smoke up my ass about how great I am, I'll call my mother for free. The second therapist was delightful and sweet, but not on my insurance plan, so at $150 an hour I could have gone to therapy and eventually bankruptcy.

I did learn a few nuggets of wisdom from those first two attempts. So now I'm giving it one more try. Is it a bad sign at the end of the hour that the good doc says to me, "We should stop right here. You have a lot more issues that is going to take longer than I thought to get into."