me vs. therapy

‘no, i won’t be writing you a script for narcotics.’

‘what if i promise to nominate you for cnn heroes?’

‘for dispensing drugs to someone who doesn’t need them?’

‘but I do need them!’

‘for what?’

‘my office christmas….er, i mean, holiday party. it’s tomorrow.’

‘in long island?’

‘yep.’

‘where your angry, non cooperative, fun-sponge of a boss’s lair is?’

‘yep.’

‘ah. now i understand. you’re right, you do need them.’

‘great!’

‘but i’m not giving them to you.’

‘c’mon. do you have any idea how much anxiety i have over this shit trip?’

‘yes, i do.’

‘so?’

Therapist smiles, says; ‘so, you’re an adult. deal with it.’

‘that’s nice. thanks for nothing.’

‘you’re welcome. really, angela…it’s not that bad.’

‘i’m on my period, i’ll have to be social and i just started my no-eating policy.’

‘well, i’d gasp if i thought those were debilitating. but (sadly for you)…they aren’t.’

‘i have to take out my lip ring! my hole will close and i’ll never get it back in.’

‘if i were less of a therapist i’d venture a stab at a that’s-what-she-said.’

Scowl.

Therapist smiles. Says; ‘just drink before you get there. that’s what i do before work.’

‘really?’

Therapist continues smiling.

Say: ‘i just hate sitting there. they put me in the vacant desk, the one right in the middle of the room. i have to touch a mouse that everyone and their brother has smeared their germs all over. and since i’m rarely there all the guys just stare at me because i'm a new set of boobs and no one talks to me except the boss and she doesn’t really talk she just kinda barks orders that i don’t even understand because they’re in that ridiculous long island accent. so i end up saying ‘yes’ when she’s done talking, then i screw up what i was supposed to do….’

‘since you have no idea what you were supposed to do…’

‘correct. then i say ‘sorry’, skulk to the bathroom and pretend i have some exotic form of the stomach flu.'

‘yes, but on the bright side there will be an hour-long lunch, that will eat up time for you.’

‘then i'll have to socialize.'

'you like talking and hob-knobbing.'

'not with them. the women look at me like i'm from outer fucking space. if i get up to grab a printout they look out of the corner of their eyes at me like they're going to shank me as soon as i'm distracted. the guys ask me things like how's the weather in connecticut, which is like...10 miles away. but most of all, i promised satan i wouldn't eat anymore since i'm now a fat cow.'

‘you mean, santa?’

Look over at Satan, Satan shrugs, looks quizzical.

Look back at therapist, say; ‘no, satan…my imaginary devil.’

‘right. angela, no matter what you say, you’re not getting drugs from me.'

‘fine. see if i tell you anything important anymore.’

‘suit yourself, i get paid either way.’

‘i quit you.’

‘no you don’t.’

‘yes, i do and you can’t make me not!’

‘our time is up. See you next week.’

‘ok.’

‘so, what would you like to talk about?’

Shrug. Say; ‘you pick…surprise me.’

‘well, since we’re on the eve of thanksgiving why don’t we discuss some things that you’re thankful for?’

‘that’s a little bit on the gay side.’

‘considering that you are too, even more appropriate.’

‘fine, but i’m going to have to think about it for a minute since thankfulness is never at the forefront of my thoughts.’

‘i understand. take your time.’

Concentrate.

Frown.

Squint.

Sigh hard.

Look over at Satan. Satan holds up photo of hot, naked woman.

Shake head.

Satan throws on ground. Holds up photo of mac ‘n cheese.

Shake head.

Satan throws on ground. Holds up photo of turbocharger.

Shake head.

Satan throws up hands. Sighs.

Look back at therapist, say; ‘do i have to be sentimental and gross and talk about friends and family and blah, blah, blah?’

‘i would expect nothing less if you chose not to.’

‘good. well then, i’m thankful that i went to college and got a degree because despite the fact that none of my employers have ever asked to see transcripts that prove i actually got the degree, they have been happy to pay me well based solely on the fact that i presumably do have that piece of paper…well, and because i’m charming.’

Therapist snorts.

Say; ‘did you just snort at me?’

‘yes, i did. where is your degree, if you don’t mind me asking?’

‘hmm. i think the last time i saw it was when i was rummaging through a rubbermaid container at my parents house and i found it under my old copy of maxim with lucy lawless in a black camisole on the cover.’

‘a place of prominence and importance.’

‘hey, not all of us are fancy shrinks who feel the need to tack up our awards and degrees on the wall behind us in every office we occupy.’

Therapist swings chair around, glances up at wall. Turns back around, says; ‘yes, i find that whenever i’m feeling small, lonely and unimportant i can just look up at all my masters degrees and phd’s and feel fully fulfilled by my accomplishments staring right back at me.’

‘i feel fully fulfilled when i think of all the hot girls i’ve fu….’

‘angela.’

‘yeah?’

‘what else are you thankful for?’

‘i’m thankful for my therapist, making me feel more comfortable with myself one uncomfortable session after another.’

Therapist stares.

Stare back.

Therapist says; ‘thank you for the almost praise.’

‘you’re welcome!’

‘i’d like you to know that i’m thankful that you’ve become more self aware and able to share more and more about who you really are with me.’

‘thanks! do you really think i’m making progress?’

‘do you think you’re making progress?’

‘no.’

Therapist rolls eyes, says; ‘why do you say that?’

‘because i’m single, i hate my job and i don’t like where i live. kind of like…exactly where i was when we first met.’

‘yes, maybe. but at least you’re better able to cope with it.’

‘you think so?’

‘certainly. when’s the last time you cried uncontrollably for no apparent reason?’

‘yesterday.’

‘umm. ok. well, when’s the last time you exhibited rage?’

‘monday on the highway.’

‘i’d venture a guess that you’re making this all up in an attempt to be funny.’

Smile.

Therapist smiles.

Say; ‘thanks for everything. i can’t wait ‘til i’m completely not broken anymore.’

‘as much as that day will hurt me when it arrives, seeing as how i will no longer collect gobs of cash from you, i can’t wait either.’

‘when i’m completely not broken anymore, i probably won’t be as funny.’

‘something i hope we can both live with.’

‘hey, you know what i just remembered?’

‘that you’ve been under the influence of a high powered narcotic administered by an alien race thousands of years ago and are just now awakening from its affects to fulfill your sleeper cell agenda to destroy our world?’

‘no…i just remembered that an exceptionally smart friend suggested that i may be in a distancer/pursuer pattern of dating.’

‘yes. you are.’

‘why didn’t you tell me that before?!’

‘sometimes, finding things out on our own is the best way to learn a lesson. Feeding you everything will only prove pointless.’

Frown, say; ‘maybe you’re right.’

‘all the degrees behind me staring at you say that i am.’

‘well, i’m going to practice not being the pursuer.’

‘a lofty goal that i’m sure you can achieve.’

‘you mean that?’

‘no.’

‘hey, you’re being funny again.’

‘it’s a character flaw. have a great thanksgiving angela. And remember, eat the turkey, don’t date them.’

Smile.

‘i stare a lot.’

‘uh-huh.’

‘out into space mostly. like when you’re imagining a scene in your head and not really seeing what’s in front of you.’

‘yes. i understand what staring is.’

‘oh. right.’

‘i think you might consider practicing not staring into space.’

‘i probably should.’

‘there’s really no probably about it. you need to.’

‘ok, ok. i know. it’s just i’m mopey and sad right now.’

‘way to finally join the rest of us.’

‘sorry?’

‘nothing. what i think happens to you is often times you get mired down in the negative, cyclical thoughts…especially after a breakup like you’ve just had.’

‘err, is there some other way…because, i kinda thought that was the whole "process".’

‘i really do enjoy your air quotes.’

‘thank you.’

‘and no, that doesn’t always have to be your process.’

‘so…how else could i "process" this?’

‘first, please stop air quoting, it’s making me want to laugh at you and given the very serious environment we’re in i wouldn’t want to diminish the atmosphere with laughter.’

‘that’s very kind of you, even though you drip of sarcasm. so how else could i process this?’

‘thank you. well, you could dive into some volunteering or take up a part time job or…’

‘bang more bitches?!’

‘uhh, no. i wasn’t going to suggest that.’

‘i hear it’s a good way to go.’

‘is that right? and who do you hear that from?’

‘what do you mean?’

‘i mean, what kind of people are telling you to umm,....bang more ‘bitches’?’

‘people who get over their ex’s really quickly.’

‘i beg to differ. i think often times those people are running from their emotions and feelings. it eventually catches them.’

‘what’s it do when it catches them?’

‘beats them over the head with savage blunt force trauma.’

‘really?’

‘angela, i don’t know!’

‘well, you put it out there.’

‘what i’m trying to say is that running from loss, feelings, emotions doesn’t necessarily do anything but postpone them, so why on earth would you want to do that?’

‘uhh, because then i won’t be staring into space.’

‘exactly, you’ll be staring into the eyes of some ugly girl with herpes that you dragged into your bed after a night of sloppy drinking and poor decision making.’

‘that doesn’t sound as exciting as the people who get over their ex’s quickly by banging bitches make it sound.’

‘no, it doesn’t, does it?’

‘not that i could find bitches to bang anyway.’

‘what’s with all this bitches talk…i thought they were donkeys?’

‘sorry, i slipped out of character in my sadness.’

‘understandable. now, why do you think you can’t find donkeys to….you know?’

‘i don’t know. honestly, maybe i’m difficult to deal with….or i smell like something offensive.’

‘or because you use air quotes.’

‘air quotes are funny.’

‘air quotes are not funny and you’re completely datable you just need to think more positively about life and smile once in a while.’

‘right. well, i’ll practice that dandy advice and by the time i see you next i’m sure i’ll be all fixed and better and perfect.’

‘as long as you don’t show up with herpes, i’ll consider it a win.’

'you know what i consider a win?'

'...not forgetting to brush your teeth in the morning?'

'that's not funny.'

'matching your socks?'

'stop it!'

'making it to the bathroom in time?'

Frown.

Therapist smiles back.

say; 'thanks for making me smile.'

'you're frowning.'

'not on the inside.'

'well, there's step one.'

'well, i walked in the door and she immediately gave me that look.'

'were you scared?'

'a little. i mean, usually she's nicer to me when i show up, but for some reason she was stand-offish and just looked out of the corner of her eye.'

'then what happened?'

'i put the mail on the counter and asked if she was ready.'

'to which she responded....'

'she just kind of grunted, then ran into the bedroom and threw herself on the bed.'

Therapist shakes head, says; 'she certainly plays games.'

'i know, i couldn't tell if i was going to get my head ripped off or if she was gonna lick me to death.'

'i didn't think she was the licking kind.'

'yeah...not really. she's much more of a biter.'

'so, did you make out alright?'

'after i rubbed her belly and talked sweet to her and gave her a doggie treat, she was great. i actually got the harness around her fat sausage belly this time in under 10 minutes. the problem came when we got around to the side of the house and the neighbor dogs were out.'

'oh hell...'

'yeah. you know how much she hates other dogs.'

'yes, i remember the last time you looked after her. how's the shoulder?'

'not so bad this time, since i was braced for it. i've never met a dog with that much torque.'

'well, i'm glad you had company...for a while at least.

'too bad it was a dog.'

'dogs are soothing. well...most dogs. what else did you do?'

'i played cook-for-myself.'

'oh, that's fun. what did you end up making?'

'a mess.'

'likely.'

'i started out with rice. you know how much i like rice...i failed to check out the fridge situation first and ended up finding only eggs and shrimp.'

'your special cook-for-myself meal was rice, shrimp and eggs?'

'yeah. it wasn't really that good. at all.'

'what a surprise.'

'at least i tried.'

'at least you tried. that's what matters.'

'you know what else matters...making sure you have soy sauce.'

'you didn't have soy sauce?'

'i threw it out 2 days earlier in a clean out every reminder fit.'

'sometimes...and this is just a suggestion...when you have those feelings of fit coming on...it's best to reflect on food products and maybe think twice on them before they end up in the trash.'

'yeah, you're probably right...as usual.'

Look over at satan, satan shakes soy sauce, opens cap, chugs.'

Frown in disgust, look back at therapist, say: 'i think i'm gonna just stick to the granola bars and potato buns that i used to eat when i was the skinnier version of me.'

'that sounds really unhealthy.'

'it probably is. but i'll be skinny.'

'well, in that case by all means....'

'your sarcasm isn't really funny today.'

'neither is your blog.'

'eh...at least i'm trying. you're not supposed to kick me when i'm down.'

'consider it tough love.'

'tough love sucks.'

'all love sucks.'

'touche.'

'you forgot the accent over the e.'

'no, i didn't. i just threw out the how-to-type-accent-marks-on-your-blog in my fit.'

'touché.'

'damn it!'