You’ll go see your Psych, therapist, counselor, whoever and you’ll off load, spilling your beans on who’s done what and why (no reason apparently?) And you'll cry as you recall how wronged you’ve been, copping a gut full of shit from the narc mother you grew up despising.
Or how crushed you are, again, thanks to your latest emotionally unavailable lover, or the ever-fading attention from your husband.
And you’re sad. Sad and empty because nobody loves you and you just can’t bring yourself to love yourself.
You’ll either switch off at the lack of progress, or being the 'good little patient', you’ll run a few rings around your new guru as you feign triumph with a well mastered response. “Oh wow, yes, I see it, another issue solved. Hurray!” And off you pop with another useless mindfulness tool tucked under your briming belt.
All the while both you and your Psych forever avoiding what you really need to be getting into the guts of.
That ‘thing’, the one you're so dam afraid will make you lose face.
You don’t want to face your own arrogance nor the worst things about yourself because you don’t want to be judged for your own guilt and shame. Much easier just to keep it all buried and pretend.
And maybe with a bit of help you can muster enough pretense to get by, appear normal, live an OK life.
And you'll keep the sadness at bay with wine, or food, or relationships, sex with strangers or the occasional script of anti-depressants.
But deeper still beneath the guilt and shame lies the real thing you’re avoiding. It's the real reason for your depression, and that’s the suppressed power of your inner being. Yip, the one who’s bursting at the seems to be released from the prison the you’ve allowed your untamed mind to trap it in.
It’s the real noise in you, it's the knock, knock, knocking. And it wants to be realized because it wants to get knee deep into the real mission and for you to live life on purpose, instead of pretence.
Only it can’t, because the human you, the furthest physical projection of itself is wandering around in a trance believing that who you are is a reflection of the bitter words spat from your narc mother's poisonous tongue ...
Or the empty promises of your commitment-phobe lover...
Or the disinterest of your lazy arsed husband who fell sleep in your marriage (or morphed back into his true colors) before the ink on that apparently most precious piece of paper was even dry.
For as long as you’re avoiding unleashing your truest self, it’ll keep on screaming it’s head off inside you. And quite frankly that’s what you’re really using your distractions and your scripts for, to drug your own soul.
To get it to pipe down, so the human you can get on with faking happiness and pretending to live.
Only that’s just not working now, is it?
And I think you know full well that it’s time that changed. And somewhere in you, you know that it can.
And you're right.
It’s certainly changed for me, and if you want it to change for you, and I can't imagine why you wouldn't, then maybe it’s time we connect. Or of course you can just keep on seeing your Psych.