“That wasn’t my intent.”
-As spoken to a woman who does very little by accident.
I sat across a table from a counselor who gave me all of the trained correct responses.
“That sounds like it’s really hard.”
“I understand why you’re struggling with this.”
“Wow.”
Meanwhile, I am measuring the hole created by spinning tires for most of my adult life. And I’m watching that same logic/emotion dual thought that occurs every time I have to tell the story again; the split screen where I am condemned to accept far less than I need forever on one side and refusing to let the severity of that override my ability to speak coherently.
I have the rope around my responses wound around my hand and pulled taut. (I’m doing it again, aren’t I…)
Yet as clearly as I can lay out how everything that breaks creates a chain reaction elsewhere, the professional across from me continues to suggest solutions that are vastly oversimplified, and I realize at least a small part of that is because I am difficult to sit across from.
I have probably already thought ahead of you by the time we get here.
There hasn’t yet been a critical question someone has asked about me that I haven’t produced an answer to almost immediately.
And if I’m not saying much of anything?
It’s because I’m busy.
_____
So when I sit down across from another person for anything remotely as serious, I have this habit of pointing at the thing about you that I have a question about because I’m wondering if you have your reasons. Because my favorite word is endogenous.
And damn does that not go well most of the time.
Through that I have figured out that the most necessary (and unpredictable) way to reach another person is to prompt their own self-awareness.
And now I do that shit on purpose.
_____
You opened a post with a cryptic title again.
Why?
I will the machine. 