:: Dictated But Not Read ::
Musings from the ''Miracle Girl''| [::..archive..::] |
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| Things That Have Been Said About Me |
| You are the Minx. |
| She plays taller than her height. |
| You have a refreshing attitude. |
| You're such a renaissance woman. |
| She's not much of a biller. |
| You are very angry. |
| You are so self aware. |
| You need a more sophisticated haircut. |
| You are not afraid of anything. |
| You have a great attitude. |
| Your life is like a Seinfeld episode. |
| You are winsome. |
| You look great in hats. |
| Miracle girl. |
| I am belligerently conciliatory. |
| You've got it big time. |
Monday, April 21, 2003
Shrunken HeadI have the luxury of spending time and money on my mental health. I started to seriously indulge this luxury when my marriage went sour. We went to a joint counselor. She was recommended to me by a children’s therapist I greatly admire and respect. I did not admit that I was seeking therapy for myself. I said I wanted to refer a divorcing client of mine. We went to this person for about two months. She was awful and inappropriate. She talked about her own life more than she listened to us. The final straw came when she told us that she had actually worked for my big awful law firm and could not understand how anyone could do work in such a place. One of the major issues in the demise of my marriage was my ex-husband’s precipitous departure from the practice of law. I remember the conversation that my ex-husband and I had in the parking lot after that session as one of the last good laughs we shared. He looked and me and said, “I guess we aren’t going back to her.”
After the joint counselor I decided that I needed to figure out what I wanted/needed on my own. I found a psychiatrist who was recommended by a friend of mine. Dr. H. was a man in his late 50’s or early 60’s. I went to him once a week for about four months. He was the one who helped me get to the point of being able to calmly tell my ex-husband to get the hell out of the house before I became completely insane. He also allowed me every feeling, action, or emotion that I felt like indulging which was fabulous for me while my life was in a state of crisis. After the separation and divorce it occurred to me that his way might not be the healthiest way to deal with my larger post-divorce issues. It seemed to me that I could walk into Dr. H’s office of an afternoon and say, “Dr. H. I just couldn’t take it any more I went out and killed my ex-husband.” I believed Dr. H. would nod his head meaningfully and say, “Well, he really has treated you horribly. It is totally understandable that you would kill him.”
I have some issues. Maybe more or less than the average person. It is hard to measure those things. One difference between me and some others is that I have the time and resources to seek help. I hate it passionately but I do it. I have found a therapist who I like and trust. Until quite recently I believed she was much smarter than me which I think is the most important quality of a therapist. If the person is not smarter than me I will get away with a lot. It is also important that she is female because I am good at getting away with things with men. I do not, generally go there to whine about my life. I have plenty of friends who are willing to listen to me do that when need be. Instead I go there to figure out what makes me do the things that I do that are unhealthy and to try to stop doing those things. This is a process and it is un-fun. I have to convince myself to go and I frequently miss my sessions.
Last week I went to my session for the third week in a row. Quite an accomplishment. I told my current head shrinker about what had gone on with me during the previous week. As usual, there was quite a bit. I met a new guy who I really liked. This caused tension and angst with another guy I have been seeing. I had extended family time for the Passover holiday and I have a custody case right now that is beyond consuming. She said, “It does sound like you have a lot going on.” I said, “But don’t I always have a lot going on?” She admitted that perhaps I did. I opined that it was me creating drama around myself and that much of the drama was probably unnecessary. She did not add much to this discussion. That was only the beginning of my new found disappointment with my therapist. The worst part was when she noted that it was impressive that I was laughing and had a sense of humor about all that was happening although it sounded quite overwhelming. I stared at her blankly. She is a therapist, right? I mean, surely she has heard of defensive mechanisms and the like? I have never even taken Psychology 101 and I familiar with these phenomena. I wanted to, but did not say, “Do you even have a degree?” Guess who is shopping for a new therapist?
D.B.N.R.
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
Dancing while Jesus is DyingI learned everything I knew about Christianity until about age 20 from seeing Jesus Christ Superstar and listening to the record repeatedly. I mean everything besides what you might learn from decorating the neighbor’s Christmas tree. I attended a Jewish elementary school and we were taught only that we do not believe Jesus was the messiah (ours hasn’t gotten here yet) and that we definitely did not kill him. Imagine my surprise when I went to JCS for the first time at age 10 and watched, as we, rather gruesomely, DID kill him. Back at school I was assured that that part of the story was not accurate. I went home and listened to my favorite songs on the JSC album, all of which come before the nasty violent part. The show was practically a folk rock concert. It is still my favorite musical.
I recently went to see a production of the show. We have six tickets for the Broadway series. A group of women friends gets together and buys the tickets but of a given Sunday night production you never know what combination of people will actually show up to see the show. But for JSC we had all the regular ticket holders. As it happens the six of us are all Jewish. G. and I are the big musical fans in general, but specifically we both love JSC. The rest of them varied from knowing a song or two to one who had never even seen the show. So there we are, G. and I are rocking out during the first half of the show, elbowing each other in excitement at the beginning of every song and as usual trying to sing quietly enough so that we will not bother our neighbors. The rest of the group looked confused and serious. As G. and I brush past them to get to the bathroom at intermission we can hear them trying to figure out the “Jesus story”. I wondered what the people around us think. I realized just how entertaining it is to be at this show with a group of undereducated (myself included) Jewish women. My favorite moment came during the second act when there is a particularly good song (well, it is) but it takes place while Jesus is being flogged and as we clapped heartily at the end of the song G. looked around, leaned in to me and said, “They’re killing Jesus and I’m clapping.”
As we rode home we again worked on our various understandings of the Jewish beliefs on Jesus. We differed. We did agree that we were quite uncomfortable watching the Jews flog Jesus on stage and then beg for his crucifixion. At the end of the night I realized what JCS really taught me about Christianity was the theory that “everything’s all right, everything’s fine and we want you to sleep well tonight, let the world turn without you tonight, close your eyes, think of nothing.” This is distinctly not a Jewish concept. One should stay up late worrying, working on solutions, and making sure everyone around you is worried too. No wonder we felt so bad about killing Jesus. He was so much more laid back than we were.
D.B.N.R.
Thursday, April 03, 2003
“Oh That”One day, several years ago, a particularly meek seeming woman came to see me about her divorce. Her husband had already filed and she needed a lawyer. She was the sort of person who seemed unable to look you in the eye and when you looked at her too hard or too closely she seemed to cringe a little bit. She had a small frame, small facial features, and close cropped curly hear. Everything seemed to be contained and inward looking. She was a kind person. She had nothing bad to say about her husband and in fact seemed rather shocked that he had filed for divorce. I was younger and less experienced then but already somewhat cynical so when she told me that he traveled a lot for work and that he was often gone for several days a light bulb illuminated above my head. I ever so gently (o.k., not true, but if it were now, I would do it gently) suggested that perhaps he was having an affair. She insisted that he was not, would not, could not. I pushed a bit more but not too much. We talked about settlement but she did not really know enough about the assets and his income and so we decided to send some interrogatories to him for his response. As one of my fairly standard questions I sent the following question, as the last question, #25: Have you, since the time of your marriage to the Defendant [my client] engaged in sexual relations with anyone other than the Defendant?
We also scheduled a settlement conference with the Husband and his lawyer well in advance so that we would have his responses before the conference. I guess his responses may have been a few days late because they arrived on the day of the settlement conference. I quickly scanned them as my client waited in the reception area. When I got to the response to #25 I had to read it a few times. He had written, “Only such as the Defendant is aware of.” This was the strangest answer I had ever received to this question. Sometimes you get a simple “no”, sometimes “yes”, sometimes they use the state law equivalent of the fifth amendment which allows you to not answer questions of an extremely embarrassing nature. This was not an answer I had seen before. Also, this was the same woman who had repeatedly insisted to me that he could not possibly be having an affair. What could she be aware of?
I quickly got my client into my office before the husband and his lawyer arrived and asked her what this response could possibly be about. Her response was, “Oh that.” “Oh that?”, I asked.
She said, “Well he wanted to try swinging with the neighbors and so we tried it and I didn’t like it but he kept doing it.” I was struck with two extreme urges right then. I really wanted to laugh out loud. The idea of this poor meek woman swinging was almost more than I could handle. My second urge was to explain to her that since she was not involved in it anymore it was no longer swinging. I did neither and simply said that we should get into the settlement conference. I did however, call the other lawyer into my office before we started. I asked her if she knew about the situation, of course she did, she had helped her client fill out the interrogatory answers. Then I laughed, we laughed, and we could not stop for about 10 minutes. We calmed down, we settled the case. My client was thrilled with the settlement and my supposedly kind treatment of her. She has referred me several clients over the years. I have not spoken to her but certainly wish her well and hope that she has figured out the definition of swinging.
D.B.N.R.
