Patient and the Therapist

Dr.Pist: Tell me what's been troubling you lately.
Patient: Let's see, every time I see a person walking towards me I have an urge to run the other way.It's somewhat better-or maybe it's worse in a crowd.
Dr.Pist: Explain.
Patient: Well, whenever I'm in a crowd of people It seems like I've disapeared in the bustle of it all,but then I get an overwhelming fear that all of them watching, evaluating me. Why won't they stop!
Dr.Pist: Do you think this is a rational fear?
Patient: Of course not, that's the worst part, I know I shouldn't be terrified to engage in conversation with people, and that it's most likely paranoia that everyone's watching me, but I'm still scared.
Dr.Pist: Hmm.
Patient: The shaking hasn't stopped either.
Dr. Pist: Shaking?
Patient: Yeah, I shake whenever I'm around people, I can't even type an e-mail if someone's close enough to read it. My fingers don't listen, my wrists jump, and I have to hide all of this whenever I'm forced to speak to a person. Like right now, I'm talking to you, but I'm horrified. Can you tell? Do you see my knees trembling?
Dr. Pist: Patient?
Patient: Yes?
Dr. Pist: Your shaky knees just knocked over my coffee mug.Don't worry, It wasn't full, no mess, just continue. Try to relax.
Patient: Yesterday I sat in the library, as I waited for my taxi, I couldn't take it anymore.
Dr. Pist: Take what?
Patient: The staring, their eyes were so hot, whenever they looked at me it burned. My arms started contorting, like there was a sanctuary above or behind my head, but it was so far out of reach.
Dr. Pist: What happened next?
Patient: The driver came, he took so long, but I threw my book down, walked, jogged-ran out of the automatic doors, crawled into the backseat, and stuttered my address to the bearded man behind the wheel.
Dr. Pist: Patient?
Patient: Yes?
Dr. Pist: You're hopeless.
Patient: What? Really? Why?
Dr.Pist: It's been five years and you haven't worked through one problem.
Patient: What should I do?
Dr. Pist: Keep attending sessions.
Patient: I thought I was hopeless.
Dr. Pist: You are, I just have a car payment.
Patient: Oh.
Dr. Pist: Next week then? Same time?
Patient: Yes.

To Walk Without Shoes

My parents have always warned me about walking without shoes.
"You'll get a tapeworm ,the ground's filthy," my mother would say.
"If you step on a nail you'll end up with lockjaw.Not to mention you would have to get a tetanus shot," my father informed me.
"Then you'll talk like this ," my sister teased,clamping her teeth together and talking with flawed speech and stiff lips.
Regardless of this I've taken it upon myself many times throughout my life to walk without shoes.I've done it recently on my way to toss out a bag of garbage.
It was weeks ago as I rushed out of the front door,furious over something so trivial that I've already forgotten what it was.My hand full of plastic as I carried the thin trashbag down the two flights of stairs and kicked my loafers off as I exited the stuffy building.
It was a perfect afternoon as I stepped into the daylight.The sky was a bright aqua blue ,not a cloud blotted out the sun's brilliance.The air smelled of freshly clipped grass and the aroma of new mulch.The entire world seemed to be clear and sharper than the tip of a newly shaved pencil.
The mix of smooth stones and rough pavement scratched my heals as I traveled along.I strolled into the dirt path and stopped to heave the overloaded sack into the dumpster.I paused beneath a tree for a brief moment to feel the ground I walked on.The earth dusted the soles of my feet as I stood there,the leaves ruffled with a passing breeze.A pattern of sun and shadows played across my legs. I deeply breathed in the musty scent of the tree's bark and continued back home.
Forget about tapeworms,lockjaw,and tetanus shots,every second of absorbing the world into the pad's of my feet was worth it.

A Familiar Image

Over two weeks' worth of severe depression methodically combined with a teaspoon of progress.A drop of water makes an almost metallic sound as it splashes onto the metal ring of the bathroom sink's drain.The smudged mirror looks most unfriendly as I examine my reflection.Sad,slightly out of focus eyes from too much searching.Full lips drawn at the corners from sorrow.Skin,dull from the gritty mineral deposits in the apartment's showerhead.Gray half-moons beneath glassy eyes;a product of too many nights spent staring out the window looking for signs of life,finding nothing but a dark sky.The glass fogs with condensed steam until the familiar image is completely obscured.I breathe normally and easily push myself to continue preparing for another day.

Simply Wonderful

What I aspire in life? Running as fast as I can until my lungs burst into beautiful dry flames and I collapse onto a pile of soft leaves. As air whistles past my lips while I desperately gasp for air , the lyrics from Taking Back Sunday's Make D@#% Sure glide through my mind. I lie on the ground as my chest falls gently up and down and close my eyes to the blur of blue skies and wispy clouds,and I drift into a sleep of hazy golden hues and the chirruping of cricket's legs.Wonderful.