Well...tomorrow I am seeing my therapist!!! I always think things as I'm sitting lazily around on my ass wallowing in self-pity, and then think "I can't wait to mention this to my therapist!" But then I am sitting in that big comfy leather seat looking into her docile blue eyes and all I can think is "LIFE IS GREAT AND I HAVE NOTHING TO TELL YOU!! NOTHING!!" And we sit there talking about all of my new life improvements for an hour. You smile and seem proud. Then as I press the down button on the elevator and as my feet lift oh-so-slightly off the ground, I feel lighter and something inside me gives, and it all comes rushing back into my brain and I think "WAIT!! LET ME COME BACK IN FOR ONE SECOND! I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU!" But by that point it's too late, and I can't remember any of it for next time.
It's like simply the act of being in that little office makes me feel as though I have solved all of my problems. I'm here! I made the appointment! I showed up! And you have a Master's Degree in counselling and we are making small-talk...therefore...yes! All of my problems must be solved! And this is what I tell you. "Life has changed. I am different. I am new and better and there could not be anything for me to say because I'm here and it's all fixed now". And yet you are a counsellor and not a psychiatrist, you remain with a small dose of naivety fueled by the fact that your paycheque does not rely on shamelessly prescribing me Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors and telling me to drink more water. So you say "That's great, Jessie. I am glad to hear that things are looking up for you". But you mustn't believe me so easily! I am kind and smiling and have convinced myself of many things, but I am conning you and wasting your time! Often times, I come out of each counselling session feeling as though I am the therapist and she is the patient, or as though it has been a training session for me to become a therapist. But I do not want to be a therapist, I simply want to be my own therapist, and you mustn't let me. You must dig deeper into me and force me to tell you the truth. Second guess everything that I say. Ask, "Are you sure?" and look at me with that certain look that you give when you don't trust someone. That is what I need you to do because I am the master of pretending, for
I do not willingly lie to anyone but I often fall so deep into self analysis that I think I have reached the prime level of self-awareness...but really...I have delved so deeply that I am not self aware anymore at all. I have a falsely clear-cut idea of who I am, what my problems are, their roots and all of my motives...but I am so lost in it that I cannot see myself objectively any longer and I am confused, overwhelmed with superficial confidence in my conscientiousness but utterly confused and naive!
New idea? Write down things as I think of them...print it off...bring it to the appointment and force myself to comment on each idea even if it doesn't seem pressing at the time...yes.
Oh my life! My life my life my life...is so tolerable and mediocre and acceptable!! I'm not really that sad...or dissatisfied...or incontent...mainly just bored! And lacking stimulation and excitement. Sexually and otherwise. I wish for my soul to gnaw away at something juicy and savoury and to feel deeply satisfied and productive and happy. I want passionate kissing and fearless sexual discovery and exploration. I want oral sex and blindfolds and ropes around my ankles. I want to be slapped around and thrown and degraded and called terrible names, then held tenderly as we engage in deeply stimulating conversation and talk objectively about our other love interests. As of yet, I am not willing to accept or even consider that changing my career path or studying something different would fix any of this. It is tiring, though. To put so much thought into orbital hybridization and cell membranes and math equations but to care so deeply and genuinely about humanitarian issues, gender issues, art, passion, sexuality. Though Science does interest me so deeply...it is tiring to want to think about anything and everything all of the time...I wish that I could travel so that I could simply know and stop wondering.
To be fair, I have THE BEST FRIENDS AND ROOMMATES IN THE ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD which I would not trade...for anything...ever!! How many of you can say for yourselves that you are able to crawl into the bed of your two roommates, who are partnered in romance, and for everyone to equally want it to be a 3-person sleepover. I still have a hard time expressing my love and affection for others (including family and best friends) and often times something deep in the back of my head wishes for me to be alone and isolated and wallow in my own thoughts. At times I feel selfish and materialistic, shallow, cruel, and heartless because of these pressing feelings which tell me to withdraw, to be alone, to say horrible things to people and feel hatred and contempt, to hold grudges, to see the world as malevolent and to internalize the victim character, to assume that people are lying to me when they say that they really like me a lot. To think that I have a small amount of talent and skill and intelligence, but not enough to do anything productive or creative or satisfying, just enough to leave me feeling incontent with the shallowness of human interaction. To feel the need to shake people by the shoulders and scream "DO YOU HAVE THOUGHTS OR OPINIONS THAT REALLY MATTER?!?!" - to feel deeply satisfied with calling people out on their bullshit and ignorance - but then to feel terrible that I have caused the possibility of someone not liking me because of it.
At times like this I think about my ex, Marc. How I should feel guilty or regretful, how it may help for me to painfully analyze both of our heartless, selfish mistakes until I have picked the entire relationship apart into tiny particles that no longer fit together into a coherent idea. How cruel I was to wish pain and death upon him through Facebook messages after his shocking abandonment that seemed so ruthless, yet so necessary...would it had been necessary for it to end that way had I not threatened my life upon the mention of a breakup? But it was then. It's how I reacted at the time. And when I think back to it I can no longer feel guilty and ashamed, for either of our mistakes. All I can think is "Who was that person?" I feel so disattatched from that naive 17 year old Jessie. How could I feel ashamed from someone who is no longer me? We were just like children, selfish and beligerent and unforgiving. It is like watching a movie of all of the things that I would hate to see in two people. Yet sometimes that little 17 year old Jessie peeks out from under the covers. Like a little relapse. And what makes me feel terrible is not that I have hurt someone else by doing so. What feels terrible is that I may go for months believing myself to be entirely reformed, before realizing that I have a long ways to go. What my goal is now is to stop feeling guilty about not being perfect. To accept that my rational and irrational side are constantly at odds with one another, because they are such polar opposites of one another and yet they both belong entirely to me. To, as an analogy, stop trying to wear size 5 shoes when I am a size 7. And to be okay with it. The goal is to reform the guilt and shame and repression of my irrational side instead of trying to reform the irrational side itself. I believe it may be what propels me to act out. The shock and anger that consumes me when my heart starts to beat uncontrollably and I think to myself "I haven't changed one bit. I am stupid for thinking so, and should accept that I have made no progress, I am angry for thinking so long that I have changed when I haven't". That shock and anger of realization, in itself, is what propels me to fall to the other side of the fence. Eliminate guilt and shame - and the problem for which you feel guilty and ashamed will eliminate itself. This is an idea but I can in no way confirm it's practicality, but from the careful and reasonable advice from many closely-observing friends it seems plausible. I am irrational in subjectivity and rational in objectivity, but isn't that such a common issue? Isn't that normal? Does it not simply make me human, and not an unforgivable hypocrite? I am more normal that I would like to believe sometimes...too in love with Drama.
Oh, and have I mentioned that I haven't smoked weed for two weeks? Yeah, I already feel like less of an awkward stoner already...I feel...un-awkward, coherent, and ALIVE!! Wheeeeee!