he has an adorable face. i blush easily and actually grow awkward when i'm truly butteflied up. with him, i blush a soft pink (guessing from the hotness of my face) and grow just slightly awkward.

funny, things are getting hazy between him and i. not sure if i want to go there though, considering his character. (in a good way) but he's the one who in recent weeks consistently brushes up against me and then scurries away to watch my reaction to it only from a corner. is he just scared or undecided? or does he have a deliberate hidden motive to push me inch by inch till eventually i cross that fine line so that if shit hits the fan, it's my head going under the guillotine? i wonder if it matters at all in the first place. when it ends, it ends.

_____


it wasn't easy seeing her. often times therapists have this defense against patients with defense. does that make sense??
i'm extremely judgmental and calculating when it comes to medical professionals. i criticize everything from the length and frequency of eye-to-eye contact when they're talking to me, how and what they chose to write down on their clipboards, where they place the needles and wether or not they remember where they poked me last, to their doctor 'swagger', their shrink 'empathy nod', the secretaries and receptionists they hire, wall paintings, shoes.. most importantly this time with her, the reactionary flinch of her eye when i reveal my great, great desire to hurt myself and the panic that surrounds it. u get the point. sad that i know exactly what to look for. it's important to me that i don't waste my time and money with ones that are going to unintentionally fuck me over.

i miss marilyn... a brilliant psychoanalyst. a brilliant woman without the psychoanalyst part too. simply one of the most intuitive, intelligent and eloquent females i've ever met. i want to say that she's my hero and idol. she has this deep chestnut hair, pale skin, doll-like face, and weirdly, she reminds me of plath. duh i've only "seen" plath in the 2x2 photos by the miniature bios on backs of books, but maybe it's the depth and brilliance in both of them that i connect. i don't know much about her- she's strictly professional, yet manages to touch and fearlessly dig into our insides in this one way path. all i could manage to make out was that 1. she's single by choice (a secretary spilled this one) and 2. a hardcore feminist. anyway-i miss her. she's the only one that wasn't scared to direct me with a bit more push and less sugar/cushion room. it was in her studio that smelled of lavender that i was able to make the most sense of my depression and of the first "admit the things i cannot change" part of the serenity prayer. it wasn't always pleasant- she would tell me true things, like how unattractive i am being so thin, how through my loss of body mass/disappearance i'm losing my 'sex' and becoming more and more of a nothing/nonhuman/nonwoman, and how i can't blame my dipshit half-brother for the effect he's had on me with his doings. all things i needed to face in order to move forward. she's also the person that inspired me to take into consideration going into art therapy, pointing out specific innate attributes. she introduced me to marion woodman's books and essays.

( i wrote this last tuesday, i forget where i was going with this so .. lol)