Drifting thoughts of a snowflake

Thursday, April 22, 2004

New lines

Miss Suzanna, my therapist, granted me permission not to come back for three weeks. Ahh, what a vacation. Think of it. A break from delving into my deep dark secrets and the ability to ignore all my problems for three weeks. How happy could a girl be?

At least that’s how it sounded to me. I took my assignments with me, and graciously exited. Assignment #1) Play like you did when you were a kid. I like this one, it’s easy. I go swinging in the park, I ride my bike and I paint. Check it off because I’ve been a good kid.

Assignment #2) Don’t just do things because you think you should. Do things that you want to do, and will make you happy. This one is a little trickier and more illusive. It is in my conscious, so I am checking it off as well.

Assignment #3) Make a timeline of your life and we’ll fill the rest in. Sounds easy, here I go. Born, adopted, incident with brother, best friend moves away, parents divorce, dad disowns me…grandfather dies. When I was done I stopped and looked at the line, which resembled more of a railroad track than anything else. When I started the project I decided to use pink construction paper. I love the color pink; it seems so hopeful and alive. Yet when I was done, I wondered if anything good had happened to me? There was nothing hopeful and alive on that paper.

My wedding was one of the tracks. It was an important step in my life, one in which I will never regret. But under the current circumstances, even that seemed depressing.

I decided to take a bath and talk to my grandfather’s spirit, to whom I have somehow projected into my showerhead after his death. (Talk about odd) Since his passing, I have spent countless hours in the bathtub, soaking away and gazing up at the showerhead asking questions and babbling away. It gives me some type of comfort to have this time with him. Damn I know it sounds weird, but people are weird.

And it hit me, no he didn’t answer, I made this timeline. If everything on this line represents something bad that’s happened to me, why don’t I take control of the line? Why don’t I make some new marks? I’m tired of having these things handed to me; I’m making it up from now on. It seems so simple and elementary. Of course you make what you want to out of your life. But I look back and I wonder who I have been living for? Me, my parents, my husband?

So from now on, I'm drawing new lines. New lines I hope to see: moved somewhere beautiful, traveled to Spain and Greece, played guitar and sang for family, maybe even had a family. Damn that Suzanna, she’s gotten in my head once again.

So what are you going to do?

Free Counter