Jana Misk

Dear readers, as you can see, I've been putting off the promised column about why therapy is awesome. To be honest, as soon as I assured you I would deliver, I was overwhelmed with paralyzing self-doubt. Why should people see therapists? I've been convincing friends and lovers for years that they should seek a therapist's help--and not in that mean way that people sometimes do on sitcoms.

Though I tend not to see movies on opening weekend (to avoid crowds), I was feeling uncharacteristically adventurous on Saturday (probably because school ended on Friday) and convinced my boyfriend to see Iron Man 2 with me. I hadn't even known it was out until that afternoon when I saw someone tweet about it.

Did I tell you about how I had to fire my therapist a few weeks ago? Yeah. It sucked. Let me tell you a few things about therapists: #1: They're not supposed to stand you up for appointments. #2: You have to put them in their place. Like dogs.

Now that the weather seems to be consistently warm, I'm becoming increasingly concerned about my thighs. It's time to shed some "winter weight," as they say. But what kind of exercise is best suited to the recluse? And would it be horrible to call it "reclucise?" (Yes, clearly yes.)

Over the past few months I agonized over whether to buy an iPhone, iPod Touch or an single-function e-reader device like the Kindle. As I bemoaned my indecision, my boyfriend merely shook his head.

Last week shortly after finishing my column, I discovered I'd unwittingly acquired a roommate. What started as the shadowy darts of paranoia in my peripheral vision became, over the course of a quiet afternoon, unmistakable glimpses of a furry creature streaking across my living room floor as I recoiled into a nook of my couch.

Anyone who says introversion is unhealthy can suck it. But while reclusiveness and depression are not the same thing, sometimes they co-occur, and it can be difficult to tell them apart.

The weather here has been warming up with the arrival of spring, a phenomenon that often plagues me with internal conflict. The desire to go outside grows steadily as each sunny day slips past my living room windows--and so, too, does the feeling of obligation.

While all dating can seem terrifying to reclusive types, even the most solitary of us need a little love.

If you're lucky enough to have found a few friends who tolerate your regular extended absences from their social lives, you might be able to inspire tears of joy by suggesting that the lot of you attend a weekly Trivia Night at your local bar.

It's no revelation that introverts don't get much love in our society. Rainier Marie Rilke, dead now 84 years, arguably remains the modern recluse's best advocate (tied perhaps with Carl Jung).