So sorry for the delay... Lots of "stuff" that we needed to take care of...
Some of the stuff has been related to my counselor and my shrink (why do they call them that?). My counselor, Mr High (and yes, that's real last name) is a couple of years older than me and is a hard core Vickings fan (and that subject has never come up). He has nested nicely in his office and is totally cool. And his cool vibe sort of wraped around me (like my guitar does when I play it). During our first session he had me run down the details of why I was there. He didn't raise an eyebrow at any thing I said (though he typed a ton of notes into my file). He then wanted to make sure I was not suicidal. By then, my time was up. However, having seen him more than once, the pattern seems to be him starting by asking about my major malfunctions before he opens the floor to general conversations that help him to get to know me. He never interupts me but does ask questions about said subject or will tell me a story about someone he knows who went through something simular. He also answers my questions without reserve. Simply put, I love this guy.
Then there is my shrink, "The Undertaker." I've given him this title because the first time I met him, I was introduced to a tall (at least 6 feet), white haired man, wearing a black suit and white shirt. His face showed no emotion other than most funeral home personel have when you go to see them for the first time. Think Lurch from The Addams Family, except ALIVE. Plus his real last name rhymed with Undertaker.
The Undertakers office was smaller than Mr. Highs was. Uniformly decorated with nothing personal there to give his patients a clue to about him. Not even family pictures on his desk. The result was a sterile environment which felt both cold and scientificy (alas, my first experience of being a newly discovered insect species sitting on a glass slide, looking up at a giant eyeball).
Anyway, I went through the basic stuff I had already gone through with Mr High. But in The Undertakers case I probably only got to finish about 15 to 20% of my sentences which were answers to questions he had asked in the first place. He also never smiled which made me determined to find the chink in his armor.
He seemed to focus on the audtory hallucinations. The winter storm one specifically. And this is where he started on my second session. We got into a small debate about whether or not alternate dimensions even existed. I told him that the issue wasn't whether or not this could even be a thing. The issue was fear I had because I couldn't see it. So he shifted attention to "seeing things." I told him I was aware of and often could often see into other dimentions. He asked me how long this had been going on. My answer? "Since 1992 when my buddy Skip and I had a close encounter in eastern Kentucky." He asked me to describe that experience. I began, he asked 5 more question in quick succession (which was easy for him since I didn't get more than 5 words out on any of them before being asked again. Looking back on this, I think he wanted to see if I was aware that I was making this up. 6 questions about the same subject but not related directy to the other questions. Since I answered all of them without hesitation, I think he at least believed that I believed it. 10 minutes later my time was up. I asked him if he was a believer. He asked about what. "UFOs," I replied. By this time we here both standing to leave. He shook his head, no. But then he did something I found interesting... He put his hand on my shoulder and asked if I'd seen "Close Encounters" (which, amazingly, I have not). He then gently squeezed my shoulder, SMILED, and leaned down to make eye contact with me when he then answered, "THAT's a great movie." Of course Lauren and I are determined to see it before my next session. The exchange there was so crytic, but I got the feeling that the real answer (or at least a clue) to my question would be there.
I think I may have found the outer chink.
LATER GATORS!
