Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Wednesday, May 05, 2010

Beyond HATE.

Every week I say, *&^%$#@?!!, that sucked.
Not going back.
Never never never never going back.
Because it sucks and I HATE it.
I hate the way the office smells. I hate the closet door.  I hate the suffocating smallness of the office.  I hate the personal space invasion feeling.  I hate the shut windows. I hate the comfortable legs stretched out while I'm screaming NO.  I hate the pen that writes things down (extra hate there). I hate the clock.  I hate the door.  I hate the shiny door knob that doesn't turn fast enough.
I HATE the script and the nodding, nodding at me, another fucked up statistic. 
I hate the understanding.

I get it, I KNOW why. 
But, still with the HATE.
Feelings trump logic and reason.

And every week, with the HATED appointment book.  At least it's written with a pencil, and not THE PEN.
Because NO.  I'm not going back.  So ERASE.
And every week, I kick and scream most of the way there, and all of the time while there.
Every week is worse than the previous week.
Every week (weak!?), I never never ever never intend on going back.

Last month, when Dave told me he made an appointment with "NAME", and I was, who what where?  Lo siento, no say?
I don't see "NAME" every week, I can only see anonymous RCD.
I can't tell a real person STUFF. 
Only recently, after MONTHS, could I have identified RCD's face in a line up.
It's easier to talk to an RCD object than a real NAME.

How can I tell the RCD stuff, when I can't tell myself stuff? 

So today, in RCD's office, he says come prepared next week to talk about herstory STUFF.
OK, sure, but I'm never coming back again anyway.  WIN.
I am less honest with myself than I am with Dave, RCD, Etc.
I lie to myself so well.
I can't tell a lie worth *&^% to anyone else. 
But I can hide, run, lie and convince the LOGIC and REASON and OBVIOUS out of my own brain.
I've never been a good liar, except when it comes to me.

I'm terrified, and scared FUBAR when it comes to STUFF.
And RCD sees HATE as progress.
Because at least I'm feeling something.
Not going back.


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