"Have you ever tried some sort of psychotherapy before?"
"Yeah, but I'm too manipulative --- with myself. Whenever I get close to dealing with something significant I start to focus on something less significant - or I create a drama to focus on, instead. Smoke and mirrors, you know? Um, why do you ask, anyway?"
"I just think with this illness, with all this tension in your neck, like this muscle that won't stop contracting no matter what I do, I think it wants to let go. I think you're ready. I thought therapy might help."
My massage therapist is telling me I need therapy. What the hell? Who is he? Bugger off, boy.
"I want you to know it's safe here."
"I don't do that with people I don't know well. It's too intimate. I only feel that safe with friends and family."
What, does he want me to cry? Because I have no problem crying. That's not the issue. What I could really use is a chance to destroy something. To get angry. I dreamt that I took a sledgehammer to an old barn and went to town. Now THAT was cathartic. What can I do on a massage table but cry? And really, that's not where I'm challenged.
"It's too messy," I state. My voice has reached that tone my friends and family know well, the one that prompts Adub to tell me that I'm scary. It means, back off. It means, this is mine, not yours.
He doesn't know me.
"It's not messy to me."
Why. Why can't he just give me a massage and stop talking? I can tell you, it's too messy. While at a talk about cancer that I attended as a freshman in college, I was sitting next to one of the greatest people I know and showed him some of the mess. It took me years to get over the embarrassment. In fact, we recently had dinner while he was in town and it was the first time I was able to get past it. All these years I've kept a distance because I was embarrassed that he saw.
So, no. I'm not showing it to you. Just keep rubbing that muscle. It's listening. It gets what you're suggesting. It just needs time to think it over. It's part of me and we take coaxing.
2 comments:
I think you should have a friend take a magic marker and write on your back "No Talky - Massagey" before your next visit.
Terr-Dog had a colonscopy on St. Patrick's Day and Mom2 drew a shamrock on his ass in green marker! They are so funny. Auto, are you sure we're not related somehow?
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