Most of my adult life has been spent self-righteously gloating at my friends who are saddled with daddy issues. Apparently, that was a premature gloating because since I started
So therapy is fun. All the creative stories I've told myself over the years, just don't hold up in the court of a perfect stranger sitting across from me, taking notes and throwing out the occasional, "Uh-huh, and how did that make you feel?" as he nods empathetically. OK, he doesn't really say that, but he does take notes. Is it wrong that I get paranoid about some potentially undiscovered neurosis or another every time he starts fervently scribbling notes as I pour some little tidbit of my soul out to him? Apparently my predilection for S&M is consistent with my intimacy, trust and commitment issues. Heh! Didn't see that one coming!
This will be an interesting adventure. Perhaps I'll come out the other side of this a nicer person. If so, what a shame to waste all this rich surliness.