Another crazy week has already escaped me for the most part. Halloween has come and gone and what did we do for our daughter? We ordered a pizza, got a 6 pack, and stayed in. That afternoon I put her in her costume and took her to Dan's office to show her off, so by dinner time we were wiped out. I bought 2 bags of fun sized TWIX candy and not one trick or treat-er came to our house. I told Dan to take the bag to work the next day as I cannot be trusted in the house with chocolate and he agreed. By this morning he noticed the TWIX wrappers in the bathroom and thought I was trying to hide them. Little does he know that I have such a compulsion to eat chocolate I actually ate those two pieces on the toilet. Have you ever needed a piece of chocolate so badly that you could not wait until after you've peed, so you eat them while peeing? Don't front y'all... Liars.
I am supposed to go back to the shrink tomorrow but I don't want to go. I want to call and cancel, but now it is after 4 p.m. and she might answer the phone. I can only cancel on her machine, otherwise she talks me into coming in. I am just not liking the therapy as much as I was. I am with a psychoanalyst, which means she wants me to come in there forever, she never references anything I said the week before, and I don't get the feeling that her long term goal has as much to do with my wellness as it does her understanding my madness... and that doesn't help me.
Last week I used the bathroom in her office for the first time. I opened the medicine cabinet and found that it was filled with bird seed and syringes. Is this meant to make people crazy? Does she do this to generate business? I decide not to mention it.
Then, at the end of the session when I am expressing my frustration with my hateful little black heart she asks me if I ever watch Star Trek: The Next Generation. I assure her I do not. She goes on to tell me how my situation is just like an episode she once saw about a transporter malfunction on the Enterprise and Captain Kirk.
Evidently, the U.S.S. Enterprise experiences a transporter malfunction when Technician Fisher is beamed up from the planet with some magnetic ore on his clothing. Scotty checks the transporter and finds nothing wrong, so Captain Kirk beams aboard. Kirk leaves with his officers and when the transporter room is deserted, a second Kirk materializes on the pad.
When a space animal is beamed aboard the starship and splits into two entities; one tame and one vicious, it is discovered that the same thing has happened to Kirk. While one Kirk is good and honorable, the other is evil and runs amok on his ship, committing violent acts, including the attempted assault of Yeoman Janice Rand.
As time passes, the "good" Kirk is weakening, losing his ability to make decisions, while his "evil" half is dying. Neither Kirk can survive without his other half. Time is running out, not only for Captain Kirk, but for the landing party on the planet's surface.
"In the end," My doctor says, "the 'good' Captain Kirk has to hit the 'evil' Kirk over the head, knock him out, and do you know what the last scene is Lawton?"
I am in disbelief.
"No." I say, "I do not."
She finishes, "In the last scene Captain Kirk is carrying the lifeless body of 'evil' Kirk in his arms like a child, back to the transporter. Do you see what I am saying?"
I was brought to tears. I told her that I could not believe she just moved me with a fucking Star Trek episode. At the same time I knew our relationship was nearing its end. Still, I am a little more nurturing of my hatefulness, and that, folks, is the way the progress game is played.