Posted by: jt | November 25, 2008

i miss dc

It’s no secret that I’m not the biggest fan of our nation’s capital. Let me not dissuade you – DC’s a great place to visit. (Wouldn’t wanna live there.)

That said, I haven’t even left yet (fuckity, fuck, fuck) and I already miss something – someone – my therapist, Cynthia. Normally I had sessions every Tuesday evening after work (brava, GW Community Counseling Center for having a sliding scale!), so tonight would have been my normal, let’s get down to work and sort me out time.

Much of the last year, particularly the last five months, has been wrapping my brain around the depths to which my family will never understand me or provide me with the emotional support I need. It’s not that they don’t want to, we just approach the world in vastly different ways. I’m not entirely sure why it is that I can comprehend their perspectives and they can’t get mine (unfair!) but that’s the current reality and, now that it has a lens through which to be seen, I can deal with it.

What must it be like to grow up in a household where you feel understood and emotionally supported? Does anyone have that? Is it possible? If I ever have a kid, could I give them that kind of environment?

I missed talking to Cynthia tonight, particularly because I talked to my parents instead. I called to give them an updated version of, Nope, I’m not gonna make it out of DC tonight either.

My dad answered and after a cursory, So, you’re still in DC, huh? he handed me over to my mom.

Without saying hello, my mom greeted me with, So are you in Pittsburgh for the night? When I answered that, no, I still haven’t left DC, the response was a snort of laughter and a Is the car at least packed?

This, from the woman who, when she called me last night kept telling me how horrible I sounded and wondered aloud if I had pneumonia. When I told her I needed to go because I needed to sleep, she said, Well, you need to keep plugging away with the packing.

Am I alone in feeling that there’s a disconnect here?

So, instead of a unintentionally-but-still-derisive laugh followed by an annoying statement of the obvious that I still have more to do here, what I would have preferred would have been a little commiseration. A little empathy. A little, I know this is tough but I also know you can do it!

I told you my life is sound-tracked:

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