Truth is.. ..I have been unconsciously blogging about various issues of everyday life for a long time on Facebook. So I decided to actually create a forum that allows me to communicate with my readers as well as for the readers to communicate with me. So here it is…. the Blindspot Blog!

Let me begin by telling you about myself. I am a Licensed Professional Counselor and Supervisor. I have also been a School Counselor. So I had the unique honor of serving individuals in the school system as well as individuals who seek private mental health care. I am a Trauma/PTSD specialist but I see clients for various issues ranging from depression and anxiety to diagnosed/undiagnosed mood and personality disorders. I see individuals, couples, families, and groups at my private practice as well.  Yes, it’s a shameless plug!

Now that the formalities are out of the way, I want you to know that this blog is not meant to be sterile and solely intellectual in nature. I created this blog to serve as a forum that allows discourse, thoughts, and story sharing between myself and the readers. Think of it as an ongoing conversation. Sometimes the tone may be more serious and other times it may be more playful. It just depends.

A word about the title. I chose to entitle this post,  “Truth is…”, because today there is so little truth-sharing happening. People lie for various reasons. Sometimes people think that it is honorable to lie in an effort to shield people from the truth. Other times, people lie because they have grown so used to lying that it is second nature and occurs without much thought. Either way, the only way to move past something and to heal is to shed light on it. You have to open the closet door, drag it into the light, look at it, turn it over a few times, and then tell the truth about it. Accepting the truth for what it is will always be the first step toward getting over it but this process cannot start if you are still in the dark and won’t even open the door.

So, I’ve turned the soft lamp on and I’m waiting beside the closet door. Won’t you join me?