my warped realm of unconscious would have devised a much better story line.
last night a dream shook me to the core.
even the furthest reaches of my mind are failing to recount the subject matter.
except, i'm well aware the caverns within my psyche are tricky little shits.
my 29 years have been well spent perfecting the artistic sides of repression.
actually, while i'm on the subject, i'm surprised - and a little irritated - that a graduate degree in Bullshitting and Repression hasn't plowed its way into the scholarly spotlight yet.
give it time.
rule number one in the idiot's guide to becoming an effective counselor?
handle your own demons before you try to help clients conquer theirs.
of course, had i any idea that my demons were the special, straight-from-hell kind...
i'm sure i'd be doing something else completely irrelevant and unhelpful.
i find myself in a weird little game of tightrope with my unconscious and relative other workings of my dysfunctional psyche. i know who i am - possibly more thoroughly than most - and i know it's much easier to leave the part of me with the blinking sandwich board that reads:
DOESN'T PLAY WELL WITH OTHERS
hidden, silent, unassuming. There is comfort in every part of that decision.
