From one head case to another

Good grief, I haven’t slept tonight, which means that tomorrow (I mean today) I’m going to be lurching and stumbling around like a zombie on valium. Sometimes I enjoy the quiet late evenings by myself so much that I overdo them, especially when I find a good TV series to watch online. Tonight it was Head Case, a show about a therapist who sees celebrities and of course she’s far more messed up than most of them are. I really liked it and shot my way through the entire first two seasons in about six hours.

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I wrote the above last night – or I should say, early this morning – and today I watched even more Head Case. I think part of the reason I like the show so much is that the protagonist – Elizabeth Goode – looks and acts SO much like my old therapist, (name has been changed) Ellen Summerfeld. Or Summerfield. Or Somerfeld… I can’t remember her last name exactly because it was about twenty years ago when I saw her and I honestly didn’t like her very much. I’m sure she was a nice person in real life; she was just the wrong kind of therapist for me; besides, I’m sure I was transferring and regressing and projecting and what have you all over the place, which wasn’t her fault. Anyway, I went to her because I was suffering from a deep depression that debilitated me so much I could barely roll out of bed in the mornings to take my place on the couch where I’d spend the rest of the day until it was time to go to bed again. That was a very painful time and now it seems as if it had happened to another person.

And it actually did happen to someone else… In fact, most of my memories feel like dreams; even the most recent ones, and this makes sense considering that all of my experiences happen in the present. Once I’ve had them they’re no longer experiences, they’ve become “experienced,” past tense, and they did happen to another person – because who I am today is not the same person I was yesterday. We redefine ourselves in every moment, with every decision we make. One question I’m trying to remember to ask myself whenever confronted with a choice, and that’s about every fifteen seconds, is, “Is this who I am?” And after that, “What would love do now?” These are questions I learned from the book Friendship With God, and they’ve helped me keep fresh my vision for myself and for my life. Whenever I feel myself descending into any degree of negativity stemming from the past, these questions, as well as saying, “Thank you, Lord, for giving me everything I need. If I don’t have it, that means I don’t need it,” have made all the difference between contentment and a repeat of that crippling depression of twenty years ago.

I’ve been enjoying this rather soft time in my life, when there’s no direct pain to feel, but I was thinking yesterday that it’s easy to become spiritually lazy in these quiet times. Lazy might be too strong a word, implying a kind of moral judgment. By ‘lazy’ I mean no longer conscious of my connection to God, and that’s something that’s very important to me, especially because I know that soft times rarely last for long. I want to stay on my toes, prepared for the rough patches whenever they come and whatever they turn out to be. This optimistic realism keeps me from crumbling; it keeps my Being rooted in the Source and not dependent on external objects for happiness. That’s why my spiritual practice is so important, and over the past week I’ve let it slide a bit. Time to dig back into it anew.

More in line with my (alleged) hair and movies theme is my lust for the InStyler, which I saw when I was surfing through channels the other day and haven’t been able to stop thinking about since. I’m telling you, I rarely spend more than two minutes watching an infomercial, but this one sucked me in because this thing is MIRACULOUS. I’m convinced that if I only owned one I would have gorgeous-and-I-mean-gorgeous hair. I’m tired of this frizzy mop, people. I want soft swingy shiny locks like a movie star, or a television star, or even the studio audience women who were perched on stools, posing perkily for the cameras during the infomercial (you can watch a demonstration here). This is what I get for watching too much American TV, God bless it anyway. And now it’s time to finish watching my therapists’s doppelganger royally screw up her life some more. Heeey, wait a minute… No wonder I love this show! Take THAT, Dr. Ellen Summer/Somer/field/feld, Miss “My Life Is Perfect In Every Way While Yours is a Wad of Slimy Shower Drain Hair.” I guess I am so transparent. Love to all! xo

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