most of the time i feel like my entire being has been insulated with wet cotton. is it possible to be so frantic and still so disconnected? i suppose it is. i mean, i know it is.
today when i dropped joseph off at the airport (did i tell you he is spending the holidays away? three weeks to be exact), it was the most peculiar thing. i had been building up this despair, this rage against the whole injustice of him leaving, yet during that tearful goodbye, and yes, i did cry, there was that cotton. familiarly soft, decidedly dull.
it's not that i won't miss him. every few hours i remember he is gone and i feel the panic rise. surely there is something wrong with me. or is that what being in love is? craving the smell of someone? his touch. his voice first thing in the… well, let's be real here, afternoon. i don't know, i didn't think i was like that. the wet cotton would not approve.
i've been up to a lot these days. every week i go into the gay and lesbian center for counseling. my therapist is an intern, which i fully expected. what i did not really expect, foolishly, was a girl of around my age in tight jeans and high heels with a sassy haircut. a straight one, at that ( i have excellent gaydar). most of my past therapists have been aging lesbians in some degree of frosted hair and sandaled foot. i didn't know what to think at first, but just as i was getting a little more comfortable with her, i found out last week that they are transferring me into a group setting. i understand their motives. my therapist is young and gentle. that's not to say she doesn't know what she's doing, i just don't think the higher-ups think she has the chops to rip me apart and make me put myself back together. although, she was certainly clever enough to call that i needed further evaluation regarding the issue the group therapy deals with. it's complicated. i might talk about it and i might not. truthfully, i am devastated and upside down about it, and i haven't had the time to allow myself to deal with that. it was an unexpected diagnosis.
it almost makes me wonder if she is right across the board. what i mean is, she suggested i make an appointment with the nurse practitioner who dispenses psychiatric medication to those in need. at first i thought, "rookie. is that what they teach you kids in school now? dope up the masses?" then she let me talk for a few more sessions. she said "you must be tired." and she is right. the anxiety level in my life has become completely unmanageable. the things about myself i used to see as funny quirks have turned into knife-wielding thugs, circling on motorcycles. that being said, if i wasn't fighting them off, i have a feeling i would be tremendously lonely, or extraordinarily successful.
i do not know which is more unnerving.
