Is this what therapy looks like for other people?

I can't tell you how often I've come to the edge of sharing the following experiences--destructive, traumatic, bizarre: all the opposites of what therapy is supposed to be. For months after the latest incident, I've needed to tell someone. I've struggled so hard with life and with putting things into writing, typing and erasing H-E-L- into the title field on Tildes over and over. Where do you go when therapists are the problem? Then, this morning, I woke up with this idea of squeezing the facts into a lightly comedic lyric. Try as I might, I guess I can't deny my métier. (I can clarify what gets lost in the parody.)

Sing along if you know the tune and have a high tolerance for aural ipecac from the 1980s.

To all the shrinks I’ve known before,
I was ten and your help I begged for.
You said, “Those aren’t real issues,
Please spare some of my tissues.”
You were a shrink I’ve known before.
To all the shrinks who somewhat tried,
Who thumbed their whiskers as I cried,
One had a light-bar toy
And called me a scared boy.
He was a shrink I’ve known before.

The winds of fashion keep on blowing,
With each conference you attend.
The only constant is me going.
What won’t I do for friends!

To the shrink who said, “talk speedier,”
Then stalked my social media,
You came to session with the flu,
And so I got it too.
Now you're a shrink I’ve known before.
One hid his grins with coffee mugs,
While second-guessing my psych drugs.
He phoned the very dude
With whom I had a feud,
Now he’s just a shrink I’ve known before.

The pandemic brought us video,
Any doctor can be seen!
But it’s the same as ab initio,
Behind or just off screen.

To the one who should have HIPAA claims,
Whose spouse listened outside the frame,
I heard him eating lunch,
But you dismissed my hunch,
Now you’re a shrink I’ve known before.
To all the shrinks I’ve known before,
Who apparently could not close doors,
You broke my fragile trust,
So say goodbye I must,
To all the shrinks I’ve known before.

As I mentioned in the screenless day thread

I was at Cloud Mountain in the woods between Seattle and Portland. This was my 3rd retreat there, and the longest that I've sat - the previous two that I attended were 2 days and 5 days respectively.

There were two teachers on the retreat, fully ordained Buddhist nuns in the Thai Forest tradition of Theravada Buddhism. Ayya Santacitta and Ayya Santussika were both wonderful.

I spent 8-10 hours a day meditating, split between sitting and walking meditation. Other than that, I ate 2 or 3 really tasty vegetarian meals a day, skipping dinner on the last few days (Buddhist monastics were doing intermittent fasting way before it was cool - only eating between sunrise and mid-day). Dinner is always served, soup and bread, but the monks don't eat, and some retreatants skip it as well. And...not much else. Eat, meditate, sleep, repeat.

It was very well done with respect to covid safety - we all wore masks and social distanced. Everyone on the retreat was vaccinated (and this retreat center is making it a requirement starting in September). They took a vote at the beginning that gave us the option of removing our masks since everyone was vaccinated, but the vote to take them off had to be unanimous and it wasn't, so we all continued to wear them while indoors.

ping: @kfwyre and @cfabbro

What have you been watching and reading this week? You don't need to give us a whole essay if you don't want to, but please write something! Feel free to talk about something you saw that was cool, something that was bad, ask for recommendations, or anything else you can think of.

If you want to, feel free to find the thing you're talking about and link to its pages on Anilist, MAL, or any other database you use!

I recently started an excellent series on Wondrium that is a PBS documentary from 1988: Joseph Campbell's The Power of Myth and I figured this series would be of interest to the Tildes crowd. In this series, Joseph Campbell sits down for a discussion with Bill Moyers discussing the way mythology has influenced our lives from the day-to-day to religion, and how these common motifs present themselves throughout our history and culture. In addition, there is a lot of examples and comparisons of these tropes within the Star Wars original trilogy that is discussed.

It is a very eye-opening and thought-provoking series that I would really love to have a discussion about if others here find it interesting as well.

Transcripts of the individual episodes can be found on this site:

https://billmoyers.com/content/ep-1-joseph-campbell-and-the-power-of-myth-the-hero%E2%80%99s-adventure-audio/

I personally prefer listening/watching as there are a lot of visual examples that are used during the discussion that helps make the topic more clear.

I am just coming out of a lifetime of depression. I am 24 now, and I have no memories of an idyllic childhood, carefree adolescence or an exciting college life. Sure there were moments I enjoyed more than others, but all were consumed by that all encompassing grey void. The one that makes everything have a dreary sameness. The one that steals every good thing and every bad thing, and just makes them both nothing

I have been crawling out of my depression for the last 6 years. I made small steps through college, but due to a horrible junior year, I fell back a lot in my senior year and the year after that. I worked a horrible job as a phone support technician. However quitting that job was my first step of healing, so that was one good thing I got out of it. I have been unemployed for the last year and a half, which has been the most valuable period in my life. I could do nothing but look into my own pain, observe my own wounds. It fucking sucked. But sometimes the only way is through.

Being depressed all my life, I haven't really done anything. I am a virgin and I've never been in a romantic relationship; I still feel a bit ashamed and uncomfortable with this. I've only ever had a few friends, though me having any is a bit of surprise. I've never focused on something, worked on it day-in-day. Thinking of all the opportunities I've never had for friends, for quiet moments, for the nervous butterflies of just meeting someone you like, fills me with an overwhelming sense of anguish. It hurts so much to imagine all the possibilities that I could have had if I had escaped sooner. But dwelling on it doesn't help me at all, so I try and not think about it too much.

Now that I am not being crushed by depression, I am filled with so many conflicting emotions. I am impatient because now that I can experience some of life, I want it all now. I am terrified because I am, for all intents and purposes, a new person who has no experience in anything. I am excited because I have so many first times for so many different things. I am scared shit less because I am unemployed and I don't have a clear path to finding work. I am constantly stressed that everything will come crashing back down around me, and I will fall back into depression. I am happy because I am going to see my best friend soon, for the first time I am on this side.

I am writing this because I want to say it to people who know nothing about me. I want other people to acknowledge my pain. Its a bit selfish, I know, but I am okay with that. So if you read through all of this, thank you

And if you are going through depression or even just hard times, please feel free to message me. And no you won't be bothering me, no I dont have better things to do, no I won't judge you.

Today I went with my dog, Ketchup, to the cemetery nearby. I'm not a gothic or anything like that, but in my neighborhood, there is not much nature or open spaces. The cemetery is the one exception -- a vast and peaceful green land, perfect for long walks, scattered thoughts, and occasional meditative states. Something essential for my mental health.

I turned off the podcasts and made an effort to pacify my mind. Show some respect for the place. Listened to the birds, saught refuge when it started to rain. Ketchup is anxious, always pulling the leash, but walking among the graves seems to make him quieter. Eventually, I started to meditate on the grounds I was walking on. Walking over people. This is not a fancy cemetery with large cement tombs. In other places I visited, ostentatious displays of after-death economic status are common (and undoubtedly very interesting).

Here, everyone shares the same, simple headstone layout. A small piece of black marble with limited space for a description, almost always containing just name, date of birth, and death.

A few headstones contain photos in tiles, with custom phrases and affirmations ("Tragedy and comedy are one -- the face of life!", it says). An attempt, maybe, to negate the end, defy the inevitable decay. There's a certain life-affirming beauty in that stubbornness. Eventually, of course, decay always wins, and those that are forever gone (in their current bodily representation, at least...) must cede space for what relentlessly remains to be.

One day, I will also become food for the plants, and someone will walk over me as well. That thought brings me peace.