Wednesday, January 29

My session at noon

        I've been happy for the past two weeks, so I tell my therapist and we celebrate: "Hooray for the moment of peace and relative clarity that we have found!"

        The other day, I spent some unpleasant time in the bathroom with my face pressed against the cool tiles of the floor which are just so dirty and gross because I live with three other girls and we live in a shitty house that we won't clean. I later crawled to my bed and, holding a pillow to my stomach, I tried talking to my roommate.

        "Isn't it dispiriting to know that you will get food poisoning again in the future? Most likely."

        "Dis-whatening?" She's eating a bowl of cucumbers and vinegar. She's a model by the way.

        "Like...who needs that?"

        "I've never thought about it," she shrugs. With her half-shaven head. Perfect lips... damn her and her thigh gap.

        I tell this to my therapist, and she asks me what's really on my mind.

        "Nothing, really. It's weird and fantastic and suspicious that things aren't perfect and I can feel so good anyway. But it can't last." It can't last.

        "No, it can't," she agrees.


        "The sun is out," she mentions, perhaps returning to a possible diagnosis of seasonal depression. Not to discredit the seasonally depressed, but imagine if that were my problem! Please, let me have seasonal depression--I'll move to Phoenix or something.

        "Yeah, that can't last either. It's January."

        " does that make you feel?"

        It's the next day, and I still feel really good, but of course the sky is filling with the promise of a very grey storm, as we both knew.

        It won't last.



  1. Storms pass. Thanks be to Allah!

  2. You have the most lovely way with words. Always have. Just started thinking about the stories you'd write in high school with all of us in them.