Who Am I Anyway?

I went to see the shrink woman today and told her that I needed to change so many things about myself.

"I'm not so sure you know what your personality is," she said. Indeed, who was I? If I could be comfortable in my own skin, just be myself, who would I be?

Why do I need to apologize for almost everything in my life as if I were going to the church confessional everyday. Why do I need to consistently make lists as if everyday were New Year's eve?

As I told the shrink woman I need to fill most every waking moment with something whether it be calling, texting, emailing, I was that nervous squirrel scampering for acorns, expecting that I'd be met with an endless winter. That was me, always frenetic like some Mexican jumping bean.

Do you like yourself? she asked, because you're so critical of yourself. It takes courage to tell the truth. No, I don't like myself, I am unsure of where I stand, who I am.

She said that if I spent some time in silence, alone, just playing with my hair, sipping a cup of tea, perhaps I'd come to enjoy my own company and if I accepted myself, somehow I would learn to accept others too. People just want to be accepted, they don't want to be criticized and feel like they're not measuring up, she said. It seemed so obvious and yet perhaps as difficult as turning around the Titanic.

The week before, I had sat in the office of the Indian Buddhaman and burst into tears. I slobbered all over my sweater, prompting him to ask, "Why are you crying?"

It's hard to explain ( maybe it's hormonal), but this is what I said to him:

"I'm just realizing that there's no answers and no cure for ADD. Maybe I'm going to just accept that for the rest of my life, it will be job after job, man after man, one failed relationship and stint after the other. Maybe I'll just have to celebrate it instead of despising it."

I think he felt sorry for me.