Thank you so much for all the comments yesterday. By revealing some of your neuroses, you made me feel a lot more normal. Perhaps that is the best therapy of all. If we can be as understanding and caring to OURSELVES as we can be to others, I think a lot of our problems would disappear! When I hear about the foibles of others, I always tell them to get over their embarrassment. It is all in their head! No one really cares! However, if I make the same “mistake,” it is as the whole world is watching.
The comment that inspired me the most yesterday came from new reader, TC.
You know what kills me about people like you and me? That we actually think we’re UNIQUE. Or that, if people heard about our little ‘quirks,’ they’d think that we’re insane.
Instead, of course, they do what I did when you talked about your coupon thing…they go “Oh, man, *I* do that!†Except not with coupons…For me, it’s calling in an order for take-out. I somehow have it in my mind that I’m going to “bother†the person on the other end of the phone by, you know, asking him to make food for me to pick up (or, worse, to have DELIVERED to me). When, of course, every logical cell in my body and everyone else’s says, THAT IS HOW HE MAKES HIS MONEY. He COUNTS on people calling in orders. And yet, I can’t do it. Seriously. Can’t.
Ain’t insanity great?
How insightful! My first thought: “This women is nuts! I wanted to speak to her like Mr. Spock “Your fear makes no logical sense.” ” I felt like sitting her down, tying her to a chair, and not letting her up until she “understood” why she was being illogical. “Why would it bother the restaurant if you called for take-out?”
But this was the point TC was making. In therapy, the therapist sits there, never talking about herself. I’m not too fond of the student/wise Yoda relationship. I think I would overcome my “coupon” fears a lot faster if the therapist just came out and said, “Holy crap! That is nuts. But not as f***ing crazy as my fear of calling restaurants asking for take-out! We’re all crazy. It’s hopeless. Let’s just take some Prozac and go out for some burgers. You still have forty minutes on the clock.”
