I walked in and I felt I was more lost than I had ever been.  The shrink wanted me to talk.  So I talked about all sorts of things.  It is really so easy.  I am good at communicating.  So the visit all depends on how I feel when I get there.  Usually I feel better, like this time I will get help.  That sabotages things though.  You would not think so.  But it does.  I find feelings easiest to make people believe what you want them to.  And I don’t have a consistency for portraying any certain feelings.

We did the usual.  They ask me what is wrong. I tell them.  But I have such a persuasive way, that I think I came off too in control.  Which is not true.  Yes, yes I was in control, in that office.  But I failed to communicate the lostness and darkness that I live in most of the time.  And so I was given pat advice.  Do what you like doing.  Take these meds.  Hang in there, see you next week, bring $180.00.

So, I find spending $180.00 to tell them what I already know seems redundant, and detrimental to my bank account.  I think they just listen, and you do all the talking.  The they have stock answers.  Do what you want to do.  Do what your dream is.  Don’t succumb to irrational feelings.  Write stuff down so I can keep you coming back every week for $180.00.  

I think I can have better conversations with myself.  I don’t do drugs, illegal ones.  But I think that might be a better use of $180 per week.  I could get high and talk to my stuffed animals, and draw and paint.  I think it would work as good or better than the p-doc and their pills.

I think I should quit trying to be fixed.  This melancholy is what I am pickled in.  Permeated, might as well try removing blood from white cotton with harsh language and pills.  I am this way.  Why fight?  We are dying all the time.  Why not embrace that?  Denial never seemed to work for me.  People say to speak positively.  People say a lot of stuff.  And it sells books.  And it sells $180.00 per hour office visits. I think people would be better off if you paid $180.00 and they then try to kill you.  Imprison you.  Treat you very bad.  Impending death makes one think, appreciate.  I think torture is appropriate too.  After that treatment, you would no longer be upset by little things.

Near death experiences are good.  Everyone should be made to think they are going to die at least a few times in their life.  Nothing good can come from nothing bad ever happening.  I hope that I find something worth struggling for.  I am the worst sort of person.  Uninspired, beaten down, no longer hoping.  It would be better for people like me to be eliminated, make room for people more deserving.  If we could just kill all the bad people, and the hopeless cases.  Then there might be a better world for the ones left.

I give myself over tonight.  Nothing really matters.