Louise is my therapist, a short and precise blonde lady who lives over in Hither Green. I’ve been seeing her for a year now – since long before the dreams started – just because I thought my life could do with some sorting out. I came to the point one day where I thought it needed a kick-start. The boys don’t cry thing means that therapy is frowned upon by men, as if seeiking help means you’re not capable of looking after yourself. But it’s far more useful than bottling your problems in, it’s far better – if you think you need it – to try and face the problems with someone than try to battle along just on your own-some.
She knows about my dreams. I think she worries about my dreams while at the same time telling me that they’re just delusions, symptomatic of other problems. Over the last few weeks we’ve talked a lot about my dreams, but tonight we scarcely mentioned them.
Tonight, we talked about
- The Mugging
- Alison
“Why did you do what you did?” she asks about the encounter just off The Thames Path.
I stutter my way to a response as it’s a mystery to me too. Eventually after what seems like half an hour of just inarticulate sounds, I say that I did it as a challenge to the world. That this life can throw anything at me – just as it throws those dreams at me – and I can raise myself up and face them.
Her eyebrow raises, clearly she thinks having a knife pressed to my throat is a more dangerous scenario than some dreams I might or might not have.
She asks how it made me feel.
I tell her honestly that it scared me, but also made me feel so good. Standing up for one’s self will always make one feel good.
Louise points out that there are some moments when it’s better to lie down than to stand up.
Towards the end of the session we finally tackle Alison. I still haven’t heard from her. Something has gone awry somewhere. Louise doesn’t tell me that I’m being silly, that there has to be some rational explanation. But she does try and get me to a mindset where I accept that there might possibly be a rational explanation. She doesn’t want me to do anything rash.
How can I do anything rash though? I can’t even get hold of Alison.
I leave the session feeling better than when I went in though – I always do. Even though there are no answers, even though there are no real conclusions, talking through one’s darkest problems with a sympathetic ear (albeit an ear that’s paid to listen and be sympathetic) does make me a feel a hell of a lot better.
And now the long, dark week ahead before the next session.
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