War of tugs

One of the perceived perks of living with someone who is a psychologist is that you expect them to be really centered. Also, that all conflicts will be solved in the best 'Touched by an angel' style in no time.

Nothing further from the truth. What you do get is someone who is constantly fighting his demons and who picks on your brain at the most unexpected moments. It's draining, sometimes. I learned this morning that there are several tug-of-wars going on in my head. And they have been there for awhile, apparently. I've been analyzed and categorized and I didn't even know. This kind of relationship should come with some kind of disclaimer: "Enter at your own risk. Thought and personality dissection possible ".

Apparently, I have this wars going on in what respects my perception of myself in society, relationships and myself. I think the gist of one of them it is that I do not want to comform to rules but sometimes need to and that I find the demands of society (finish your degree, get a job, work like a mule) an imposition -I do- and that my impotence in face of the strong obligation I feel makes me explode at the least provocation.

I do feel the pressure to get a 'good' job after I finish (already!) the dissertation. And I feel it comes both from me (I've been a notorios overachiever all my life) and from him. Even though if he denies it. And he did deny it. He put it all on me and said that I project (and more of that mumbo-jumbo used by counselors) it all on him just because he 'pushed a button'. Of the many I apparently have.
It may be true. But I know it does not come all from me. He said that he saw these wars waging in me when he met me.

But I beg to disagree. When I met him I had swore I was not going to get into -yet another- relationship with a messed-up guy, that I was just going to finish my degree and go back to Colombia and that was it. I was living in a basement apartment -something that I did because I wanted to, and it was cheap!- and didn't have many 'things' but I was happy. I dedicated myself to studying and working and even though I was not deliriously happy I was not miserable. I was just going through a stage -being a peniless grad student- but I did not feel all this pressure I am feeling now that I'm about to finish. I didn't want what I hadn't got at the time and now that I have some things that many people find desirable I'm still restless. So his theory of 'you were messed up when I met you' kind of doesn't fly. At least for me. It may make sense for him, though. After all, he's the pro.

Isn't that ironic? I'm closer to getting my degree than three years ago, I live in a pretty house, have some money -very little, trust me- and even got a car all my own, I even have a relationship. But I'm NOT happy. Maybe this comes from where my Bovarism comes: I am not happy with what I've got. I feel constrained, opressed and sad and miserable because I know he thinks I have all I need and that he provides me with all I need and want. But I don't. And I don't know how to articulate this. I have no idea how to tell him this because I don't make sense even to myself.

It may be my Peter-pan syndrome, that does not want me to 'grow-up', get a job and stay in it twenty years, get a mortgage, obsess about retirement, grow a potbelly, get some gray hair, forget punk rock. Be an adult. Now that I write it down, it does sound like all I don't want. I want to grow up my way: the way I have been doing it up until now. I know young pretty things think they are confused, messed up and that nobody understands them. Trust me, it never ends. Here I am, over the hill and still as dazed and confused about some things as I was when I was twenty. But maybe that's what 'growing up' is: never stopping, never being sated, never having enough. Maybe you were right, you mention something similar awhile ago.

But apparently, people do get more practical, more mechanical, less inquisitive and more malleable. Maybe that is what being an adult is. And I don't want to start practicing to become a 'real' adult. And that is my biggest problem. I have to think about this more. Oh, and as I told you, there are MORE tug-of-wars going on in me. But this is the one I remember best. I think at some point during his dissection of my character I stopped listening because I was beginning to think I needed to respond. But it would have sounded like I wanted to defend myself. And I didn't want it to be perceived like that. He was in a roll, his clinical mind tearing me apart. And I decided I was going to shut my mouth this time. Even if he was going to accuse me (and he did) of 'shutting down'.

And I did. Shut down, I mean. But I wish I had paid more attention so I could write here more about that. But eventually we'll go back over this topic. And then I'll have pen and paper ready. Like in a lecture. After all, he's trying to teach me how to be an adult. And I think I'm going to fail. Miserably. Maybe that's the other war he said I was fighting. Funny, I thought those wars were what kept you going. Apparently not. I have to learn more about this.

But this is good enough for now.





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