Sunday, September 9, 2007

I'm OK?

My last session with Marty the therapist was- the last session. He told me that I'm on the right track, and if I should ever need to talk about any issues, he'll always be around.

I'm glad because to be honest I was starting to think Marty gets all of his material from outdated self-help books. I had to read The Power of Now and then he started with I'm Ok You're Ok. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I read that thing eons ago. My mom had bought it but acted guilty every time anyone saw her reading it. By 10, my reading skills were advanced since I'd already been sneaking VC Andrews and Stephen King books for years.

I thought IOYO was some sort of pornographic sex how-to manual that was meant only for
adults so I couldn't WAIT until it ended up in cardboard box underneath the basement stairs so I could get my hands on it. That's where all her Harlequins went, eventually. Then the basement would flood and the hundreds of Harlequins would get ruined, no big loss. Anyway. I found it under the basement stairs and devoured the darned thing before I learned that there was NOTHING interesting about that book. NOTHING. Then I started acting like I was OK but my parents were not OK. I've been acting like the parent ever since. That seems to be my role, I guess. Of course, Harris is a popular subject for a day in sophomore PSYCH class lecutres, and I got to learn how he came up with his goods.

Marty's point the other day was that I'm ALWAYS in the parent role. I told him about X and how he never talked to me like he talks to his new PetName. Marty said, "Well, can you picture someone talking to their mother like that? Because that's what you were. When was the last time you acted like anything other than a parent?" Fine. I get it.

Then I told Marty my good news and how excited it was to finally, maybe be able to have my own house again. I told him how I used to drink my first cup of coffee every morning, walking around my back yard, inspecting all of my flowers and my garden. I told him how I used to make a cake from scratch at least once every week. How I enjoyed cleaning my house, decorating, painting, and taking care of it.

And I have not felt anywhere near such happiness since the day I moved. Three years ago next week. I told Marty that I feel like the old me. Just knowing that I can buy a house if I want to has rejuvenated me. Marty said that there I go again, not thinking about having fun. I'm thinking about getting a house so I can create more work and put more pressure on myself. I want to "mother" a house since I am no longer married.

He really missed the mark there, because he's so wrong. I used that house as a play house almost, because I didn't have a home like that growing up. I created my own world to be a kid in. I don't know what I will do when I settle in a new house. Hopefully I've grown in ways that I didn't expect. But for now, I'm so glad to be able to see. Marty is great, but he just doesn't get it this time. Oh well, can't win 'em all, Marty! You're still ok!

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