![[dr. bob]](/dr-bob-sm.gif)
Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 25 of 27. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by Susan47 on September 26, 2007, at 14:01:51
Well.
Today I drove up your street
Because it was the shortest way
from x to z, and I remembered
an emerald green jacket one day, there.
Where I actually really expected to see it, but was yet surprised ... Surprise. My god you exist, in body not just in imagination ... you have a physical body, and There
There.
There it is.My dear therapist.
A man, like many, very many of your kind .. hard and soft, wonderful, delicious .. hah. I wouldn't know, now.
Which is a good thing, is it not? I have no wish to make anyone whimper. Not because of who I am, nor who they are ... They. You. All of you. All of them, the men.
Listen.
Here is an attitude.
One I've imagined, and seen, and not wanted to see .. but there it is.
A man. Seeing a lot of women.
Daily.
Alone.
A man. Seeing a lot of couples.
Daily.
Alone.
A man. Experienced. Worldly. If not through direct experience, then certainly through vicarious means. Yes.
All right, then.
A man with imagination.
A man with dignity .. soul, humour .. expressiveness .. oh yes, those eyes. Your bbe's. Ah.
Yes. And you do know how to mirror.
So very well, so well in fact, that it's a way of life.
Posted by Susan47 on September 26, 2007, at 14:13:32
In reply to Dear Ex-T, dear man ..., posted by Susan47 on September 26, 2007, at 14:01:51
> Well.
> Today I drove up your street
> Because it was the shortest way
> from x to z, and I remembered
> an emerald green jacket one day, there.
> Where I actually really expected to see it, but was yet surprised ... Surprise. My god you exist, in body not just in imagination ... you have a physical body, and There
> There.
> There it is.
>
> My dear therapist.
> A man, like many, very many of your kind .. hard and soft, wonderful, delicious .. hah. I wouldn't know, now.
> Which is a good thing, is it not? I have no wish to make anyone whimper. Not because of who I am, nor who they are ... They. You. All of you. All of them, the men.
> Listen.
> Here is an attitude.
> One I've imagined, and seen, and not wanted to see .. but there it is.
> A man. Seeing a lot of women.
> Daily.
> Alone.
> A man. Seeing a lot of couples.
> Daily.
> Alone.
> A man. Experienced. Worldly. If not through direct experience, then certainly through vicarious means. Yes.
> All right, then.
> A man with imagination.
> A man with dignity .. soul, humour .. expressiveness .. oh yes, those eyes. Your bbe's. Ah.
> Yes. And you do know how to mirror.
> So very well, so well in fact, that it's a way of life.So to continue with my imaginary friend, now. The one I've built, out of my "dependent personality" ... the mirroring I do is another kind, perhaps. Yes? No? Perhaps it's all nothing, now.
All right. This man needs scaffolding.
There she is, there she stands. She walks in front, protective and demanding.. giving, always giving. It's a difficult way to live, but she does it. She manages. She is His foundation. This is where he feels strongest, in coming home to her.. she is his advocate, and he does everything he can to keep her .. operable. Loving, to the degree that he requires that; satisfied, happy, secure. We all need that.
Well.
Some of us just don't have that, darling.
We're not there, yet.
We have to learn to provide it for ourselves.
To be our own goddamn muse.
F*ck you.
F*ck you, darling, (see now I'm just being Angry, again ... is this my transference? IS IT???) for not being there, for being weak, and protected, and using your safety net, your personal strength who is your wife, to go forth and misbehave .. so mild are your misbehaviours, that anyone would be a fool to try and wrestle with you. Which is why I do what I can, now, to retain any level of sanity and self-respect .. and that can only be done by being helpful, and kind, and understanding. Loving, in fact.
It's why an open heart is the only possible way.
You fool.
Posted by Susan47 on September 26, 2007, at 14:58:02
In reply to Re: Dear Ex-T, dear man ..., posted by Susan47 on September 26, 2007, at 14:13:32
I never meant to be this personal. But I've seen enough of the men in this profession. And the women as well .. it's a human thing. It's human to have an ego that's self-protective, very much so, and mine no less so than yours, as your professional opinion would no doubt attest to. Yes. You are so Important.
I used to feel so much Love, at one time, and now I just feel so much Sadness ...
Humility .. once the word is spoken in relation to oneself, it can no longer be true.
So goes to the way of the ego. Hah. (longgasspingsightothefinish)
Posted by Susan47 on September 27, 2007, at 16:43:37
In reply to Oh, dear, posted by Susan47 on September 26, 2007, at 14:58:02
I couldn't have written or spoken any of that. A year ago, or four, I could never have voiced the secret thoughts that were eating away at me, making my "therapy" so impossible.
That's the good thing.
Posted by Susan47 on September 27, 2007, at 16:48:43
In reply to A year ago..the good thing about this., posted by Susan47 on September 27, 2007, at 16:43:37
And now that that is out of the way, I can continue to grow up, grow out of it all. The worst has been said, it's all been spoken, now, and I remember once he asked me, he asked me what I wanted to accomplish out of seeing him. He asked me what I went to him for. And I didn't know, really, I may have made something up. The real thing though, is that I just wanted to be healthy and happy, I knew that was possible and I knew he could very much help me. The fact that he mis-handled it and never did ever apologize or indicate in one way that he might be sorry, that he might have made some amends, never came up, because that's the nature of poor therapy. Poor relationships, suspicions and stuck ways of thinking and being, hound the profession. I'm sure of it. After reading and thinking and experiencing .. and meeting a lot of therapists .. it's quite daunting, really, how much is left to Chance.
Posted by Susan47 on September 30, 2007, at 21:59:13
In reply to Re: A year ago..the good thing about this., posted by Susan47 on September 27, 2007, at 16:48:43
I heard this story yesterday, a friend of mine's ex-boyfriend was a T .. she told me this incredible story and I guess Things Happen in session that are really dicey, extraordinary and simply Not Allowed in the Real World.
So I can see the fine balance between breaking a client and breaking a behaviour ... which is why things Have To Change ... I wish I didn't have such a strong feeling about this but damn it I really do!
Posted by Deneb on October 2, 2007, at 21:49:10
In reply to Left to Chance, Like This, posted by Susan47 on September 30, 2007, at 21:59:13
Hi Susan,
You're very creative. Sorry it's so quiet in here. I'm glad you're here.
Deneb*
Posted by Susan47 on October 8, 2007, at 22:33:29
In reply to Re: Left to Chance, Like This » Susan47, posted by Deneb on October 2, 2007, at 21:49:10
Yeah, nice to see you here too .. lovely .. it's good to be creative, get all the squirrelly's out.
Posted by susan47 on November 24, 2007, at 2:40:39
In reply to Re: Left to Chance, Like This » Deneb, posted by Susan47 on October 8, 2007, at 22:33:29
There was not so much creation in what was spoken, as reality. There was a great deal of reality, so much so that it was almost impossible to look at until the glare of direct experience had been mellowed by time ... I love you.
This is a terrible thing.
Loving you is fruitless.
You exist for someone; you exist for many people.
Just not for me.
Time to heal, time to let the gentle shallows lap softly at my feet .. or something like that .. something soft, and warm, and gentle.
Kindness is needed.
So much kindness.
Gentle, and tender.
Sweet and dear .. like you.
God I miss being in Love.
Loving you.
It was sweet.
Terrible. Sweet and terrible, oh yes.
Posted by susan47 on November 26, 2007, at 18:41:28
In reply to Reading Over, posted by susan47 on November 24, 2007, at 2:40:39
It's not so much about love, or Loving, in particular, as it is about having hope for living. That's the thing.. when everything else in life is hopeless, and fruitless, and dark and seemingly empty, because the Energy I have to expend, what my Life force wants, is Expression.. damn it, I should have been an actress. I have the name for an actress, why the hell not.
Because that's what life is, it's an act, a play rendered in darkness, only come to fruition, to complete light, at the
end.
Damn it.
So much fear in people, in myself, for the act of Living.
Why do you hate being my muse? I wish I were a poet. If I were a poet, I could write things that would help people, like you, understand. But I can't, I'm too effing direct, my approach is not very poetic, is it .. is it? No.
Today has been a dreary day. Work takes away life energy, a day at the computer is like a day in life, Wasted. Utterly destroyed, distraught, in pain and at the end of it all. There is no tomorrow, for today has never really Been. My life ebbs slowly by, the sand at the end of the hourglass, and so on and so on et cetera intoinfinityinto the end of the universe.
F*ck it.
You don't understand.
You have to have an effing soul, a real heartfelt Soul, to understand any of This.
What you call Life, I call living death. Why do others survive the mundane, the ordinary, the everday, why can't I? WHY THE F*CK, CAN'T I?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
Posted by susan47 on November 26, 2007, at 18:56:26
In reply to Hey., posted by susan47 on November 26, 2007, at 18:41:28
And once again I realize as I read this over, I see it with a jaundiced, jaded eye.. I see it through the eyes of a therapist who's ruled by his sense of himself, his honourable approach to life, to Living .. I can see how frightened he could be.
Such directness, such honesty as to what was actually going on in the mind of a .. Patient, oh my God.
Oh
my
...
and I see the silly illicit thoughts struggling, because he knows I live in a deep twilit world that is Interesting, but .. he's a professional. He must always be that. It's his job.
Therefore I must be accusing him of doing something .. bad.
How sad.
Sh*t, sh*t sh*t f*ck*ng sh*t and sh*t again.
Kiddo.
Hey.
What is the matter with Love?
Honey, it's Art. Art in motion, art in love, art in pain .. art in Eros and not .. the only thing that was never real, was the hate. That Had to Go.
Don't you see how you've helped me (by allowing me to express) find myself?
And all you can think about, is lawsuits and lawyers and protection .. was I right am I right .. god What is this About? WHY ME?
Posted by gardenergirl on November 27, 2007, at 9:14:03
In reply to Once again, posted by susan47 on November 26, 2007, at 18:56:26
I hope you find the answers to your questions. I hope you are able to be free to be the you you want to be and to have that be just fine.
Keep writing. You're talented.
gg
Posted by susan47 on November 28, 2007, at 18:51:03
In reply to (((((Susan))))), posted by gardenergirl on November 27, 2007, at 9:14:03
Hi, gg ..
Thank you for saying that I am talented. I came here just now in order to write my heart, the things my heart is telling my mind, and my mind is listening, and this is what it says,
XD (youknowwhoyouare, my dear, my inside man, the one who moves my soul, my heart and spirit soar when I think about who you are, what you are, and everything good I remember about who I can be, when I feel your presence, Who are you?)
My heart is telling my mind, or it was five minutes ago, and now I'm having such trouble remembering, getting the Feeling back, the one that spoke to me ... it told me ...
If you weren't there for me, if that electronic gadget which you allow me to use so freely, to free my subconscious, to Love me from a distance, so that I can be who I really Need to Be ...
if it and you weren't there for me, I don't know who I'd be today. Because freeing myself as I have been able to, has brought about so much Good ...
I always want to talk about the Bad when I bring the good into any conversation.
There is nothing bad about this.
I will leave out the bad .. it doesn't have a place in any of our experience. Because it has been that, it has been a dual experience, a duality of feeling and thought .. I love that.
It's like a dance, a beautiful, soulful dance of right, of everything that is Right with our world, and Life itself .. all the pain can be managed, if we have a friend, someone who can allow us to be ourselves without judgement ..
that is the end of my thoughts, the beginnings will come again, they'll come back to me and then I can write it out.Hey, gg .. thank you for listening.
ooooooooooooo (hugs)
Susan
Posted by susan47 on December 18, 2007, at 23:09:38
In reply to Re: (((((Susan))))) » gardenergirl, posted by susan47 on November 28, 2007, at 18:51:03
I really let it all hang it, didn't I. Heh. Stupid or brave, I don't know. But it was all F*ck*ng Worth It.
Sorry for the bad language. Goodness knows, bad language has to be good for something.
Posted by susan47 on December 22, 2007, at 7:52:59
In reply to Wow., posted by susan47 on December 18, 2007, at 23:09:38
Like pearls to swine.
What are the pearls?
Posted by susan47 on December 28, 2007, at 19:01:06
In reply to Dear Ex-T, dear man ..., posted by Susan47 on September 26, 2007, at 14:01:51
My therapist was really good at mirroring. He forgot to be genuine, he forgot to be himself, he forgot to be real.. he was all of those things in glimpses, but the empathy and the mirroring hid a lot of stuff .. he was a Pretender in the biggest sense.
I hated him so much, I loved him too, but most of all I wanted to be something meaningful, I wanted to be the thing my father never saw, I wanted to be the Sparkle and Shine that I Never Was.
And I made it, I made too much of it, I made the opposite of it, I made the Ugly and the Sad and the STupid and the Insane, I made the Sexy and the Wanton and the Freak, most of all CW Saw the Freak, He didn't see the person that could be Whole and Healed, he never saw me. He saw the sad misfit.
F*ck him.
Because that is Not what or who I am.
Posted by susan47 on January 28, 2008, at 19:31:49
In reply to Mirroring, posted by susan47 on December 28, 2007, at 19:01:06
I saw her today,
I saw you both, but you first of all
and then i turned around and walked away and when i came back he was gone ...
and i saw them walking away, together, male and female,
and she had these awesome Stripes in her hair, the underlayer dark, like a she-devil, the top light and lighthearted, blonde in the most wantonly gorgeous feminine sense,
and i felt so carried away by what i saw, there.
In the broadness of his back, of his being, his grey-corduroyed legs, the soft sheen on the fabric carrying him away in mink-like Glory...
Cw. cw cow ... cow, eyes brown and soft and gorgeous like a cow's, only he wasn't that.
Cowered, perhaps, in the end.
But soft and hard, like a bull, like the stallion he was .. is. Is.
Ouch.
Sh*t.
mwah.
F*ck. You.
Not in the threatening sense, but only in my mind.
There was sensuality not displayed today, never shown again to anyone. To Anyone.
Goodbye, good luck, good love.
Ciao.
Take care, eva.
Posted by susan47 on March 18, 2008, at 19:25:48
In reply to Oh, wow., posted by susan47 on January 28, 2008, at 19:31:49
I think it's safe to say that it really isn't over until the fat lady has sung.
She has only just crept up to stage left, where she will make her entrance. Entranced, is the lady, by her own self.
Entranced, Darling.
Absolutely f*ck*ng raving wonderfully in love with her drug of choice.
May it be herself, may the drug be only just her self.
I love you, i love you, i luv u, I Love You. I love you, I love me, and I f*ck*ng love life, after my d.o.c. is done.
Before that, you see, i'm just wading in mud.
The mud is in my mind, it's mind mud. Yes. There's no colour to anything, everything is too close, too sad, too real. And then my d.o.c., which is really a terrible thing, it's like the snake in my mind, this great big cobra just squeezing the life out of my brain, slithering shinily, shining slithery, slithery sloth. Yes. That's what I am, when not on my d.o.c., the thing that makes my mouth quite foul, thank you very much.
I love you.
Posted by susan47 on March 18, 2008, at 19:36:06
In reply to Dear Ex-T, dear man ..., posted by Susan47 on September 26, 2007, at 14:01:51
You see, o crazy one, that this is how things get misunderstood, minds get misplaced by stuff like this, because how did this T know, I mean, if he read this sh*t, this absolute shite, I mean, how would he KNOW you were talking about the street he works on not the street he must live on? The street where he would have a life, and now, having just Spoke about such street, of course he will think that you might now be obsessed about finding out what street he lives on .. I mean, it could go on forever, this fear a person could generate.
And I can't try and think like him, to understand where he might be coming from, to understand any and every fear he could possibly have about me, which is just so sad, and I've been obsessing about how I must seem to somebody like him, this ex-T, and I've been feeling so badly about myself, about the feelings I had about him, I've been feeling so much sadness over it, and I just have to pretend he thinks I'm lovely and wonderful like I really am. I just have to guess that that is a possibility, that he understands my ability to put things where they really do belong, that he gets it, that he gets me.
I just have to trust that that is what's happening.
And I have to Let It Go, damnit, let the whole damn thing go. Because I learned so much, and I grieved so much over lost emotions, and what Could Have Been in my life, was always only that. It was only one possibility of many.
And all the wishing in the world won't change the choices I've made.
But I can show my children that happiness exists in this world, that Yes, It Does Exist.
What am I writing about, why do I write this crap, why do I explode in all these silly ideas which mean something only in the moment that the thought is in my mind, and then when I read this later I won't understand myself. Or I might.
It's the re-reading, and not understanding, that hurts.
This is the thing I cannot accept about myself, that I could be so many different people, all exploding to the surface, and that the darkness in my head can cover them all and make them completely silent for so long.
So many unhappinesses. So much yet to be visited, so much to be discovered, in there.
I want to know, I want to know.
Posted by susan47 on March 18, 2008, at 19:51:52
In reply to Re: Dear Ex-T, dear man ..., posted by susan47 on March 18, 2008, at 19:36:06
Okay- reading this previous post I see again that the lost emotions and the what could have been had nothing to do with what I was thinking about the x-T either, because he was never in any of the equation, the lost emotions are ones I'm talking about from when I was knee-high to a grasshopper, ones that resurfaced because I allowed them to have a direction, and that is the only reason they resurfaced and came out as absolute Love for myself seen through the pretend eyes of my x-T, ah Hah. Giving myself the love I never felt before from anyone because I didn't have it in me to give, it just wasn't Safe. Any moment of tenderness allowed myself, any moment of reverie or vulnerability, crushed with the next harsh word. So I gave myself unlimited access to Feeling Good, and unlimited access to my d.o.c., and also unlimited telephone access to my doc. The trick is to feel good again, to find the joy in life that i had at that time, to experience and feel those wonderful feelings, because the feelings were definitely real, and because I felt them once, I want them again. Greedy, I am.
Posted by susan47 on September 3, 2008, at 15:29:34
In reply to Re: Dear Ex-T, dear man ..., posted by susan47 on March 18, 2008, at 19:36:06
The most important thing to remember is that I am sane now.
In this moment.
Even if a bit emotional, even if my mind's imagination is only sparked with the help of a little illicit substance, lately ... even if.
Even if you loved me,
I wouldn't know how to love you back.
Even if you cared,
I couldn't care back
Even if my heart needs you
even if my heart needs you,
my heart needs you
it needs you to love me,
Love me please love me.Big heaving fat f*rt apple pie in the sky f*ck*ng sigh.
F*ck you.
F*ck me.
F*ck us every one.
Thank you.
Posted by susan47 on March 18, 2009, at 18:05:48
In reply to Re: Dear Ex-T, dear man ..., posted by susan47 on September 3, 2008, at 15:29:34
It hurts so much to go back and read any of this. I don't know this person, the Susan47 that I was, I'm not anymore. I learned something, I don't know what exactly, but I know I learned something Huge. Lots of things. Like, you can't objectify people. And you have to be fair, you have to play fair, you can't play the victim all the time, and you can't play the perpetrator, both roles are hurtful and wrong. You have to be more like the grass in the wind, a whole field full of beautiful long grass, and the sighing as the air blows past, and around ... quiet. You just have to be ... quiet. And love as much as you can without wanting anything in return. And forgiving yourself for your mistakes. And going on, going on.
Because life is ephemeral. Therein lies its beauty, and its tragedy. And emotion, emotion is art, it is life, Life itself, and so few give in, and that is also a tragedy, and I suppose I must believe in the laws of nature, and know that time heals every wound. And if I were religious, I suppose I would pray, but I don't believe I am, and so I will just ... go on.
Posted by susan47 on March 18, 2009, at 18:07:17
In reply to I Don't Know Who This Is Anymore, posted by susan47 on March 18, 2009, at 18:05:48
and blessings rain upon your head, lots of blessings.
Much, much love.
Posted by susan47 on April 4, 2009, at 14:46:25
In reply to May you have a Long and Happy Life, posted by susan47 on March 18, 2009, at 18:07:17
as though you really cared what I thought, but thank you anyway because I believe that you are trying to help both of us, because I know I'll never lay my eyes on you again, and that is going to be okay, because my therapy-love is now going to be my secret. The thing I keep to myself forever, the memory of your face, brown eyes, the shade of blue that is just right, just perfect on you. Your long fingers and well-maintained nails, things you know people see about you, the way you flick the end of your tie sometimes (what does this mean? does it really matter? it was part of what you did part of you yourself) the way you backed up to the couch or the chair and felt it touch your heels before you sat down, the way you crossed your legs and sometimes acted laid back and bored, and sometimes were caught by surprise.. somehow I don't need to remember those parts of you anymore. Because now I'm free to choose what I like and what I don't, and I do remember the shape of your head, your bearing, the way your hair, so seemingly prolific for a guy in his late fifties, so sweetly touches your collar, so that someone would run their fingers through it and touch your scalp and you would really enjoy that ... see, now I can have all these things to myself and know whatever I like, and I really like that, being totally private and not afraid of being ashamed.
Posted by susan47 on August 2, 2009, at 0:12:31
In reply to Yes, posted by susan47 on April 4, 2009, at 14:46:25
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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
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