Journaling

I’m taking a big guess for the when… maybe hour eight-ten (I think of the first 24 sessions as the first day of working with Tim). In session, I was talking about the lack of people in my life. I mentioned people leaving. I’m speculating that I said something about not wanting to invest in a new therapeutic relationship due to the fear of loss. Tim said, “I’m not going anywhere.” I’ve retained the thought and not completely believed the words as perfect truth. Life changes. Things happen.

Holding onto a proclamation, no matter how much you want truth, tends to be sacred but fragile.

Someday there will be two possible outcomes, at a minimum: 1.) I will no longer need Tim and/or the sessions; appointments cease. 2.) Life circumstances requires separation.

Loosing Tim is a resurfacing intrusive thought that doesn’t get instantly dismissed and instead gets retained… in a quiet place all of its own.

Jon Glover, almost 10 years; Dr. Stephan Weiler, 13 years; Dr. Alexander Fritz, 10 years. I’ve had one day with Tim. I’m in the middle of day two. (10 months total). I keep naming Tim as, my person.

A my person is someone I trust deeply, grow with through honest debate, and share ideas with freely — where both of us light up when learning from each other, and truth, fun, and wholesome chemistry make everything feel real and safe.

What is the answer to why find excitement to plan an in-person meet? I think we’d just… feel more like us in person. And I’d really like to find out.

[About meeting Tim for the first time at his office. My reaction several hours later processing an adrenaline induced tunnel vision episode, which lead to a multi-day panic attack].

OH MY GOD, FUCKIN’ SHIT!
 
I missed everything. I mean everything. I was completely wrong!!! There is no Office Tim. Freaky memory totally scrambled things. I was convinced that Office Tim was not Video Tim. Mistakenly thought Office Tim was Thumbnail Tim. Tim in his office that whole hour was Mystery Tim.
 
The reality: the entire draft enormous word count narrative/essay is bullshit. Stop. Glaring Screenshot Tim says, “No, now tell the truth.” Ok, right. Everything absolutely was true in the moment and a great deal continues to be true.
 
So, what the Hell am I talking about?
 
Full of grief, I was messing with iPhone Voice Memos, somewhere between 24-36 hours post visit. I was devastated that I had no recorded memories. I listened to a lot of static. I scrubbed forward far enough that I heard voices—clearly. That’s me, that’s Tim. Nearly nothing was lost. Only thing lost was the spots of bad translation to transcript. So OMG, FS! Getting what you want can stop depression. For a moment. I’m so ready to soak, explore, and rectify.
 
Oh yeah, for sure, I’m going to listen to that Again! This could easily end up being a four time listener.
 
I’ve discovered a priceless artifact and I will greatly value the opportunity to revise the original thesis. I don’t believe I’ve met Scolding Tim. That might happen now. I’m sending a second daily. However, No way I can sit on this until Tuesday.
 
And, yeah, I know the whole name thing is now absurd. Maybe Tim will laugh?

About meeting Tim for the first time at his office. We were having a fight (translation: a friction about what normal human means). I wrote a list of things I knew about him. Abridged version.

Ten months. Here is what I know about Tim…

• 48 years old
• psychology wasn’t his first career
• two cats
• signs all communications with Initials, for simplicity and ease.
• wears fleece zipup when cold.
• thinks out loud—sometimes the thinking arrives in three contradictory pieces before it resolves.
• conscientious; goes the extra step to find reference materials that are relevant
• doesn’t want me to do things for his validation or to make him happy.
• the confidence that he can interrupt me — unproven in my experience but claimed.
• appears that nothing people say to him creates embarrassment
• when liking something I’ve created, he genuinely says so.
• quiet or noiseless laugh
• neutrality is the default. solidarity is not beyond him.

Completely legitimate for a normal human to have a superpower.

About meeting Tim for the first time at his office.

From “Six Minutes Over,” I am compelled to say more. Line for line I created a resonance. Is it just more redundant, raw clutter? The process was helpful. Unexpected, timely, outreach proved to be the quiet, healing, exactly what the soul ordered. Take steps to profit, repeat best phrases: if it can’t be spoken seven times—then read it seven times. Hear what needs to be heard. Meanwhile, each line is an explanation, day before.

Ok, so meltdown has concluded. And really what kind of lame-ass meltdown omits waterfall external tears? Strive to frequently have real tears like Ryan Gosling featuring an angelic face. Grace doesn’t seem to spend time scolding the situation with “don’t feel” commands.

The intense aftermath emotions were not about any “normal human” revelations or conclusions regarding others… rather a situation of being overwhelmed from too much preparation and unrealistic high expectations for the desired goal.

There is a recent half written essay titled, The Situational Self: Environmental Influence on Perceived Personality, which actually did the hard work of sorting out what really happened.

Additionally, I was reminded that parking with feeling is a missed benefit from owning a vehicle. An activity that allows one to have intense mopes away from the confines of one’s apartment. How could I have possibly forgotten that once upon a time I did that all the time? Search the journals. A lot of evidence.

And really, normal is a large spectrum. See the essay.

[About meeting Tim for the first time at his office. A poem about adrenaline induced tunnel vision, which lead to a multi-day panic attack].

It’s not enough time.
Getting cold, wool blanket is upstairs
Stuck, sitting
Don’t feel. Don’t feel.
Crying could be elegant, if without stuffy nose
In Escape but no escape
Garage, stuck, sitting
Drive home
Sunset, rear view mirror
New, on sale, $14.77. Black leather band. Here, on a rack, watch face is shade of purple that matches my hair and bezel nearly matches my carabiners. I need to pick one and fix it, or just buy a new one. Dead collection of adulthood. Every wristwatch in the jewelry box needs a battery and a new leather band. I want a watch.
Distraction. Don’t feel. Don’t feel.
Physical pain is the near perfect substitute for the “being stuck” kind of pain
Travel the long way, like maze
Shopping, will push through the pain
Escape=ability to go-stop anywhere
I’ve stayed too long
Tim walking away
Being stuck, as a feeling; it’s not a place
35 minutes. Don’t feel. Don’t feel.
Crash. Don’t feel. Don’t feel
Sitting, waiting; stuck in park; no start
“The way out is the way in,” Motley is right
Desperately needed reinforcement of the familiar, valediction
Asking makes a hand offered; soothes the guilt
Transgression
Wanting Levi to rescue me, but trying to be small
Quiet fear
Avoid really looking at Tim
Awkward thoughts
Office Tim is not video Tim
I’m too much. Say too much
Did I do it right; do what I wanted to do?
Slide through merely pieces
I want Tim to know who I am
Space, smaller than the camera
Wi-Fi anxiousness solved
Twisty-turny maże
It’s not enough time.

1996, switch to new health care provider: PDoc change. At Research Drive, waiting way past time. Grumpy, obnoxious, agitated—not mildly. I sniped at the desk, “…why is this taking so long?” “We have no record of you.” Oops. Reschedule. I trudged away and maybe a week later came back. I was then set up to meet a different guy. Feeling hopeless and unenthused.

An older gentleman: wise, caring, compassionate, dry humor. Just sitting in his office felt healing. He always took time to shake my hand. Strong, firm. He insisted that “fine” was not an allowed greeting. To write prescriptions, I’d leave his mini sitting area and take the chair across from him at his desk, and we’d schedule next appointments. At time up, I didn’t want to leave the huge collection of books, the artwork, and his big desk… and well, him. I had access to his direct email. The medication cocktail changed numerous times. A short description doesn’t really capture how awesome it was. The scheduling mixed up, being assigned to Dr. Stephan Weiler was lifesaving. I could put a hundred carabiners in the gratitude jar.

After 13 years, when Weiler retired, he explained that he was turning me over to one of his grad students, who was competent, capable, and—he said—a good fit. Weiler was correct. I was able to work well with Alexander Fritz from 2009-2017. Then Fritz left. Followed many years of unfortunate PDoc choices. Now, Alicia Ellison is second best favorite.

I wonder if Tim has a great handshake. I want to find out.

Two part weekend: project (fun. exciting) and trauma book report (stalled, full of trepidation).

The Body Keeps the Score and What Happened to You? I had two Audible credits. Listening to the first, I realized it sounded very familiar. Discovery: I already had this book in my library; downloading a duplicate was missed because there was a book cover difference. I got my credit back.

So, two trauma books. The first explains how trauma literally reshapes body and brain. Between them, the word that keeps surfacing is recalibrate. Not fix. Not cure. Recalibrate. The second book asks us to understand our pasts in order to clear a path forward.

Admittedly, I had the speed cranked up to the max. I hope I didn’t miss the message Tim most wanted me to receive. I’m starting to wonder if developing liberating beliefs and processing trauma are just different names for the same repair work.

Not exactly related to trauma, but lately I’ve been thinking about Stumbling on Happiness, by Daniel Gilbert, which is a book I’ve listened to more than twice. I believe it, but knowing a thing and doing a thing are different—to make your best guess what future-you wants, implement, and be ready to chill if future-you ends up wanting something different. I believe Gilbert calls it correcting affective forecasting.

Nir wants us to take bucket list items and attach a WISE goal to some/all of them.

I know you are not supposed to believe everything you read on the internet… but I really hope this is true: New Almond Joy Ice Cream Bars Now in Stores.

Weekend best: zoo volunteer potluck. Met people who will be in the goat yard. I saw a Princeton Club swipe card. We talked about exercise and pets. I have her phone number and she followed me on Facebook. I have some great photos of them.

Listening to a reel from Mark Manson. He says that Epicurus argues that happiness is not gaining or acquiring anything. Instead, just remove the things that make you feel bad. What if those bad things are within yourself? Unhealed trauma, tendency towards laziness (or simply just don’t want to start if it can’t be perfect), habit to over-explain and over-apologize for things that don’t require either, avoiding confrontation, resist taking in positive information, catastrophize quickly and dramatically.

Perhaps the highest flaw is inability to become my own best friend. If improving happiness is about removing the bad, then the one thing that would make the greatest difference is to cure the unending loneliness through acquiring quiet lasting contentment.