Addendum: Memory Lane

So I went to my therapist today.

She said, “So what happened this week?”

(My therapist sometimes has popcorn beside her chair. During the worst of the tour this summer, when Bob and I were having the really colorful fights, she brought Junior Mints.)

I said, “Remember how we were going to do that book about the HWSW blog?”

She nodded. She was against it, having lived through it once.

I said, “Remember how I was going to go back through all my old e-mails?”

She nodded again. She was really against that.

I said, “I accidentally erased all of them.”

She laughed out loud. I mean she whooped. Then she put her hands over her mouth and looked stricken.

I said, “No, it’s awful, the last year of my life was on there.”

She put her hands down and nodded soberly, real sympathy in her eyes.

I said, “There was a damn good book in that, an honest book, it would have been cathartic to write it.”

She nodded, her brow furrowed, sharing my pain.

I said, “I was really looking forward to that, to making sense of that year, getting closure.”

She nodded, deeply interested, supporting me.

I said, “Oh for heaven’s sake, Leah, knock it off, you already laughed out loud.”

She cracked up again and laughed her ass off and said, “I can’t help it, I’m just so happy for you.”

I sighed and nodded.

Then she took a handful of popcorn and settled back in her chair and said, “So what else happened this week?” and we pushed onward into 2007.

16 thoughts on “Addendum: Memory Lane

  1. Oh Jenny. I can’t even begin to understand. But maybe it’s all for the best. There is that old saying I love to hate, “everything happens for a reason”. To which I usually reply, well, I don’t think I can say that here.

    Keep pushing forward. All is good. Life is good. 2007 will rock. You Rock!

  2. Bless your heart. I think your therapist owes you a whole bag of junior mints!

    If you can’t find those lost/hidden/deleted messages, use what Bob saved and add your timeless insights.

  3. She sounds like my therapist. To our first session she wore a t-shirt that said “Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I count the buckles on my straight jacket.”

    She doesn’t have popcorn though.

  4. So basically you want us to shut up with all the “you can recover stuff” advice, right? Got it.

  5. Jen-T: I’m with you. The only reason some things happen is because of the immutable laws of physics. Sure, one can become a better person in response, but sometimes you’ve reached your limit on personal growth and more sucky things happen anyway.

    I like Lynn’s idea, Jenny – write it the way it should have happened. Just be sure you don’t label it as a memoir if you start totally making things up…

  6. *snort* your therapist and office wench cherry’s therapist and my old one should all get together. i think i had more than a few conversations like that. 🙂 never gave me popcorn but she had stacks of candy. and tea. and really nice couches.

  7. I think I like your therapist. She sounds like the one I went to several years ago who said something along the lines of, “Why would you want to attempt to retrieve repressed memories if your life is fine right now and those memories might make you miserable?”
    Well, duh.
    I thanked her and went home, much relieved.

  8. TT said … sometimes you’ve reached your limit on personal growth …

    Oh, Amen! Sometimes you just want to scream that its someone else’s turn to be the grown up.

    “reached your limit on personal growth” I’m going to remember that one.

  9. Aww, Jenny, that’s sad. But maybe the universe has something else in store for you. Maybe you and Bob are going to collaborate on a romantic comedy about the DLD tour. It could be fun.

  10. Well psychology has certainly come a long way since Freud. Can’t quite imagine old Sigmund supplying popcorn and wearing a t-shirt with the words “straight jacket” on it. But then if anyone needed a straight jacket…..

    To everything – turn turn turn
    There is a season turn turn turn
    And a time for every purpose under heaven.

    Karma baby, Karma.

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