1st appointment with my new shrink. The first appointment is not a good time to tell me that I may be a teeny bit autistic. I am trying to keep an open mind. But some sh*t just tests my limits.
I have headphones on and I'm lying on the couch. She's asking me to remember my cat, Baker. I got Baker when I was five. He died a decade ago. I have grieved and I am over it. Or am I? The headphones are buzzing in my left ear, then right, left, right. What do you remember about Baker?
I was so afraid that I was going to conjure up his zombie feline ass in that office that I almost didn't want to open my eyes.
That was so much fun that we decided to try another exercise. This time when I closed my eyes, I pictured myself at five years old. I was supposed to talk to five year old me. Here's how the conversation in my head went:
Mist 1: Hey, Mini Me. I'm sorry that I haven't spent much time with you since I grew up and sh*t. Oh, sorry about my language. Don't ever say that okay? Your mom will kill me.
Inner Child: This shi*t is retarded. Mom doesn't care if I curse, you know that.
Mist 1: Right. Well, I am supposed to ask you if we can spend some time together. Wanna play?
Inner Child: Damn, you haven't changed at all. You still don't have any friends, huh?
Mist 1: I have friends...they just don't like me right now, that's all. Look, I have a $500 deductible, so can we just play with your little worm farm?
Inner Child: Just sit there and try to look like you're having an out of body experience. This sh*t is too weird for me. Go spend some quality time with another imaginary kid. Pervert.
I miss Baker.