sliding scale therapy
Another moment destroyed by trying to capture a picture of it. The moon was huge and as white as the blimp. My therapist says I should live in the moment and not try to record things in my head. Or on film, for that matter.
Why do people freak out about going to therapy? I got to talk about myself for a whole hour! It was fun. Here are some things that I remember:
When we are babies in the womb, everything is cool. Then we get born. That’s traumatic. Like in the Bible, there is the garden of eden, and then they got kicked out. I forget why that makes me screwed up, but it does.
As far as why I always want to break up with a woman after a few months…I start to feel connected and that feeling of connection is a threat to my independence.
The attachment is created by a chemical. Mother’s release that chemical during childbirth so they don’t look at the ugly crying thing that caused them so much pain and drop it in a river immediately (sometimes it happens anyway). That chemical is also released during sex.
I asked if there was a chemical blocker so I wouldn’t have to feel attached. She wrote something down in her notebook.
I don’t like people to ask me questions. That is a threat to my independence as well. I really want to be independent, yet I long for a deep connection others. I’m conflicted.
People questioning me has, in the past, led to me getting in trouble, so I have learned to not want any questions.
I’m not sure what happens next. I’ll go back in a week or so and ask some more questions.
Camera phones just can’t get the job done on far away things. Just this morning I was driving across Massachusetts through the remains of an ice storm. The roads were fine but the trees were still covered in a shell of ice. large evergreens were misshapen by the weight of the ice and everything had a glowing white sheen. It was awesome. For once in my life, I cared enough to want to share this moment with others so I whipped out the camera phone. I held it up to the rolling hills of western MA and it was clear that the camera could never possibly get the job done. I didn’t even bother snapping a photo.
Comment by Lyle_S — December 12, 2008 @ 7:25 pm
I’ve had several experiences with being questioned:
Some of them involved my ex-wives, alchohol and lipstick of the wrong shade. Some involved handcuffs, blackeyes and nightsticks. Some involved long periods of sleep-dep, ice cold water, rubber hose and broken english.
Not only that but I firmly believe that the most fucked up people I’ve ever encountered were shrinks.
Comment by Poll — December 14, 2008 @ 12:37 pm
Tell us a war story, Poll. I’ve never heard you talk about that time.
Comment by Rolston — December 17, 2008 @ 10:13 pm
is this what LSD is like because I must be TRIPPIN’
Comment by just dropped by — December 17, 2008 @ 11:19 pm