Turtle; beach. Fun; nothing. Money; drain. Father; stern. That’s
interesting. I never really thought of my father as being stern. Is that
really what my subconscious thinks of him? I take a moment to reflect on my
life, completely ignoring whatever my therapist is saying now. He could be
talking about the same thing, or he could be prompting me with more word
associations, but I’m stuck in my own head. He should have thought about
that before we started playing this game. The whole reason I’m in here is
because I have trouble concentrating on the real world. I can tell the
difference between what’s real, and what’s not, but I don’t much care for
the former. It’s much easier to pretend I’m living in a fantasy; a world
that I can shape to my needs. I don’t like to rely on others, because
they’ll only disappoint me. Disappointing; mother. So now I’m just playing
the game by myself. Has my mother been a disappointment? She’s certainly not
my favorite person in the world, but I love her, and I appreciate everything
she’s done for me. What was she supposed to do, order my father to stop
making me practice the clarinet for four hours a day. She did the best she
could with me and my brother, and so did my father. Brother; escape. Yeah,
he was always smarter than me, so he was able to get a scholarship for a
college on the other side of the country. I didn’t even bother applying,
because the application fee would have been the same as flushing it down the
toilet. Meanwhile, he stayed out there, and never has to come back. When the
time comes—and it’s coming soon—I’ll be the one still here, having to take
care of the parents. They’re going to resent me for it, and he’s going to
act like sending a couple hundred dollars a month is contribution enough.
He’s rich now, I don’t know why he doesn’t send more. No, this is a stupid
stray thought. We don’t need anything from him.
Nothing; fun. That was a weird response too, don’t you think? Why don’t I
find anything fun? It’s not even true. I love going...well, I guess I’m
tired of that. What about...no, I was never very good. I guess it’s true
that I don’t like to have fun. What kind of person feels that way? Suicidal,
I suppose. I’ve never given it much thought, but am I secretly at risk of
doing something to hurt myself? No, that can’t be right. A lot of people
don’t have fun, but that doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy being alive. Fun
is an interpretation of an experience, and is not a synonym for
happiness. Still, I’m probably not really happy either, which I imagine, is
why my wife left me. Wife; disappointed. Wow, how’s that for an Oedipus
complex? I’m disappointed in my mother, and my ex-wife is disappointed in
me. Does that mean I married myself, though? That doesn’t sound right. That
would say more about her own poor choices, and she has her own psychology to
deal with, with her own therapist. Therapist; uninspired. Whew, that’s
rough. Why don’t you tell us how you really feel, self? It’s true, I don’t
know about this guy yet. I feel like I read somewhere that said techniques
like this word association game are basic, and ultimately don’t really
improve a patient’s mental health. I don’t want to judge, but I’m paying him
to help me, and if it’s not doing me any good, then there goes more cash
down the toilet. Toilet; now. It’s not an emergency, but I could do with a
break. Only then do I notice that we’ve both been silent for the past three
minutes; me in my own head, and him waiting patiently for me to come back
out of my shell, like a turtle; beach. “Are you ready to talk about your
father?” he asks me. Father; stern. Stern; justified.
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