Couch 127: The Wayward Couch

Hugs to Yu
Ou art. I used to work in a call centre and had one rude person who wanted follow up on an issue. In his notes it said the issue couldn't be escalated because he refused to answer all the questions. I said I would have to ask sme more questions, if he didn't mind. Well he nearly deafened me when he repeatedly hit the receiver on the table and screamed in my ear. I was only new and in my confusion I hit the wrong button on the plantronics box. Apparently I was to blame. I do understand and it's difficult not to let a few rude people ruin your day.

It is deplorable how some people treat us who are just trying our best to help. I'm sorry you've been there too! I usually handle it better but I'm not at all today.

Sorry for my ranting all.

Good lord - that is a terrible realization.
The therapist not knowing who Plath is would depress me more -but how could they not? One would think a picture of Plath would be on the cover of their suicidal depression textbook.

You guys could be like The Minority Report. If they are gonna make cosmetologists in Illinois take a domestic abuse counseling class in order to renew their hair or nail or makeup license (!!!), seems to me you guys could prevent domestic abuse by reporting these hotheads to the police.

Career advice by unaluna

U can advise my career anyday una! I might could "retire" early heehee

I shall test her at our first appointment in the new year. I don't have high hopes.

Not only that, I have the distressing desire to try reading The Bell Jar again, which I tried to read in high school but gave up on by chucking it full force against the opposite wall of my bedroom.

Don't do it - next you will be moving into Paul Verlaine's poetry or plays like O'Neill's Long Day's Journey into Night or William's The Milk Train Doesn't Stop Here Anymore while listening to Berlioz or Schumann.
It is a slippery slope I tell you.

I would not reread Long Day's Journey now - that last line has always haunted me: "I married James Tyrone/and was so happy for a time."

Long Day's Journey into Night has been the single most expression of voidness of hope that I ever read.

Should I be glad that current T knows of (and is apparently a fan of) Anne Sexton?

Or, should I assume that's rather common knowledge given American high school / college curricula?

I read her in a college class on American Women Poets. Otherwise I would have no idea who she was. As it is I haven't bothered to remember a darn thing about her.

I should reread it.

I have not read Sylvia Plath, but I had a colleague writing her PhD thesis on Plath so I got some idea of her work from that person. Anne Sexton I've never heard of, though.

Just don't do it (LDJIN) while listening to Berlioz or Schumann.

Remember, facilis descensus Averno.

Yes, quite facile indeed.

And on that note, I'm off to bed. Tomorrow is Christmas here and I have, at least, wrapped all gifts. We'll cut a tree tomorrow and decorate it on Sunday, probably, as we'll be away most of the day tomorrow and we're not going to leave a newly decorated tree with the cats...

Goodnight all.

He is my hero. I knew his parents lived in Australia. That sounds wonderful

i have been so emotionally exhausted.all i did was sleep today with the help of sleeping pills and pain killers .i dont want to be awake at all. i cant stop horrible memories and the fact that my T will never ever understand .

I think the therapist might understand but not agree with your interpretation.

Yeah! Punching bag is set up. Ready for the holiday.

There ya go ruh roh.

Would it be ok if we took turns, if needed?

There is a present under our tree from our son to h and i. I love that boy.

You bet!

I get that holidays are hard for people. I do. I don't get though why so many people chose to take it out on me today on the phone at work. My last call was over 35 minutes where I was belittled, berated, yelled at, blamed, etc. My supervisor was standing behind me for moral support. She was too chicken to take the call from me, though. Anyway that was the icing on the day of so many others taking their unhappiness out on me by the time I got to my car after my shift, I just sat there shaking. I could not drive. I was about an inch away from calling t just wanting to hear her voice. But she probably would have answered, and I didn't want to bother her, every time in the past I have called (which hasn't been that often if it wasn't a scheduled phone session) just wanting to hear her voice on her voicemail, she answers so I didn't want to bug her today either. Anyway I am home now, and have just poured the first glass of wine, and am chillin' out.

The overtime is looking brutal for January so far. I'm scheduled for 36 hours of overtime in the first 2 weeks of the month. Calgon (and wine) take me away!

Thank you for the hugs, guys. Sorry for the self pity party

so much coming up for me after being verbally assaulted all day at work. somebody please remind me that nothing good ever comes of alcohol-enhanced calls to a therapist.....