Saturday, August 26, 2006

Chatting it Up with the Doctor

Is there anyone left in this town who doesn't have a therapist?

I've tried before. Really I have. I mean, it's the hip thing and goodness knows if there's anything about me that you should know by now, I'm all about being hip. Unfortunately, somewhere between notes made in a manila file folder and the coy timer that politely states "Time up", therapy always loses it's charm. Nevertheless, if one person tells you you have a tail, ignore them. If several people tell you you have a tail, it's time to find a mirror. Several people have told me that I should see somebody (yes, that's right I seem to have misplaced my husband), so i guess it's time to find a counselor.

And in spite of myself, I might have done that. The good doc is safe. She's sweet and quiet and looks at me in a "poor dear" sort of way that would have previously made me wretch. But she asks me about Dalton. No one does that anymore. And I can talk about him without feeling guilty that I am ruining someone's day or monopolizing a conversation or being a boring/dreadful friend. After all, I am paying her to listen and I had best get my money's worth. So I talk. And talk. And talk.

And funny enough, I cry. And it feels good.

She asks me about him. What is he like? What do I like most about him? How would I describe our relatinoship? When do I miss him the most. How did we meet? What is the hardest part of my day? And on and on until the timer says "Time's up." And she says without any hesitation, "Bring a picture next time."

I will.

2 Comments:

Blogger amanda said...

I've been having similar experiences lately...no one wants to mention Eric when I talk (except for two or three very close, very dear friends). I must admit that the meds seem to be helping (the side effects are diminishing as my body gets used to it) but I would still rather talk about everything and get it out rather than just take the meds. Hopefully my doc will have a referral/recommendation/appt for me next time.

4:13 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

People don't want you to talk about "it" because they truly aren't prepared to hear what you have to say. To be fair, it probably sends them somewhere they aren't willing to visit when thinking about the strange finality death represents.

I have posted some strange e-mails here I can't find when I want to assess what I wrote and why. No matter, I guess...I am not about to suggest anything. I don't know you but I do have a vested interest in you finding space and time to continue LIVING so that Jim.... I can not do what you do. I visit your blog and relish each and every syllable...

Sounds crazy, doesn't it? I am in my life and happy, I guess. I am here typing away so you don't feel alone and overly angry at those who really are trying to connect.

I can't understand the poster who decalred you selfish. You are anything but...I vuew this blog, your writing, as a gift.

10:37 PM  

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