Barbie is Pink #8
I have a new therapist. Lets call her Barbie. (Only cause my last therapist was Ken and this girl has crazy bright pink “My Little Pony” hair.) I tried to explain who I am and what I’ve done and I was really bad at trying to create any sort of narrative that wasn’t eccentric.
I had to go over all sorts of stuff I’m sick of telling people. I took zoloft in china. I pulled the microphone away from the pastor and said “I don’t believe in God” cause I was depressed and mouthed off and it came out as pretty psychotic. (I really don’t believe in God I just believe in checking in with community so I can monitor my own behavior and mood so I end up going to multiple meetings weekly) I went on and off meds in Guangzhou, had a fling and ate lots of street food. I’m dating a guy who’s honest I’ve known for a long time who I genuinely like and it’s a real relationship for a change which bothers me cause I feel like I can’t control the outcome. I take medicine so I can concentrate, no I’m not compulsive. I really like to read; I read like a book or two per week. Perhaps I am compulsive about reading. Whoops.
Trying to get to know someone’s story in just 45minutes is literally impossible; especially for someone as neurotic as me. Lets just hope Barbie’s got game. I left her office and wished I had just vented about the previous day. Barbie has some of the worst plastic flowers I’ve ever seen in her highly un-decorated office but she knows what the Myers Briggs is. I told her I’m a Figure Model and I have like a million bosses and she gets what that entails.
They repaved the street that the office is on so now all the messed up schizophrenics have a nice place to schmooze and smoke outside.
She was like “but why are you in therapy?” I couldn’t just say “because I have to?” “because I need medicine?” “because I’m a very sick person?” “because I want to figure out why I am the way I am?” “because I need help?” “because I have trouble working, brushing my teeth and being happy?….things that other people do and take for granted without thinking about it.” (O no I can’t remember the last time I brushed my teeth. This is bad.)
“Technically I might have processing issues and if I do that makes me schizophrenic not just synesthetic and it’s your job to help me figure that out.” If only I could say what I mean the right way the moment I mean to say it. That would have helped our interaction alot.
After I explained to Barbie what Synesthesia is she set down her clip board and indicated a little round mouse with a tail that was on the floor. It makes white noise that’s peaceful so you can do mindfulness exercises would you like to try it? I look at it skeptically say “no that’s not a good idea. Damnit I’m curious okay just for a little bit.” She turns it on I see the white noise and shake my head no and say “no” without contorting my face too much like that was torture.
I tell her it’s already way too noisey in here she’s just not being attentive. I can read what they’re saying in the room next door cause it’s loud and it’s annoying even with the door closed. As long as it’s loud enough to read then I have no choice but to read it. I can’t turn it off. The only way to turn it totally off is by taking more medicine like stronger / higher doses of things that make me gain weight.
I don’t actually want to not see words. Seeing words is like seeing my best friend, it’s intricately tied up with my identity. It’s like the Willy Wonka Golden Ticket in my pocket. It makes me feel happy and special; more unique than the populace. Words are always there for me like my best friend. Which is why if you ask me who my best friend is I’ll come up with a blank face and just shake my head no.
Speaking of my best friend I have to go spend time with my best friend now. I’m reading a book called “The Glass Universe” and I need to study math for the clerk test which might be coming up a month from now. I figure why not study now while I can. It’s probably the ideal thing to be studying before the start of the school year anyways.
Last night was complete in it’s goodness. I modeled for Dan the Man and he let me give my 2cents during part of the lecture. Then I did this super hard pose with my feet crossed for like the whole day and part of the morning. Then while I was resting before posing at Oldest school in the country a woman in need came straight in the cafe and tried to get a drink and I said I would pay for her to the barista. Then the woman told me she needs Mcdonalds and I shake my head and tell her “no I don’t believe in McDonalds, (that’s a bad company) you are not having McDonalds you need to pick out something they have here the barista girl’s going to get you whatever you want.”
So I have this unprecedented moment where the Barista bows her head takes up my credit card and while I’m resting my legs she brings me my large coffee and the receipt which includes money for the chips and soda for Ms. Needy. Finally I was just at this point realizing I made 150$ in a day and hadn’t spent anything yet all day. I’m not going to remember this 5$ When did my life get like this? How long did it take me to get it together like this?
In the building next door I folded origami until about 7pm when they finally got around to setting up my pose and they’re horrible at it. I did 5 more 20 minute poses. Overall I did more than 13 20 minute poses that day. I stood for 5hours easily not counting bathroom breaks, miscellanious back and forth walking, stretching and biking to two different gigs. There’s a limit. Yesterday was my limit.
Then on my way home I remembered it’s wing night tuesday night and I’ve never been so tempted to do wing night but I resisted the temptation and just biked home. I have to be strong for other people you know? It’s like I’m so used to being the needy one and I’m finally on the flip side of that coin. I’m so lucky I’m doing as well as I’m doing. I’m so lucky I make decisions at least as well as I do. This is my opus.