X and My Shrink

Good afternoon, beautiful reader. I have missed you so. Today is the first day in weeks that I have had the house to myself. I know that it won't last long, so I'm savoring every moment.

BizBlog is fabulous today. I have been so behind on her life that reading it was like having a chocolate cake with chocolate icing for breakfast. It's so hilariously honest. Her truth is so refreshing. It's more than refreshing, it's LIBERATING. Thanks for the post, Bizzy. It dug me out of a real funk. What's really odd about it is that I've been muddling through my own little parallel mini dramas.

What is it about people that inspires them to attempt puppet mastery? It's so incredibly fruitless. Even if they manipulate someone into doing exactly what they want, what follows is barren and hollow and they're left with a nagging suspicion that won't go away. Then the suspicion feeds upon itself and there's more manipulation and more barrenness and more suspicion...and, well, you get the picture. It's exhausting for everyone involved. Case in point, conversation with The X. My Shrink calls his tactic The Relationship Triangle...

"Well, I guess you know what [Daughter] is doing tonight."

"Mmm. Hmmm."

"Well, what do you think about it?" And without even breathing, launches into "I think [blah, blah, blah, ad nauseum]." This is X's first attempt to lure me into The Relationship Triangle.

I respond with [my first attempt to bypass TRT] "If you feel that way, maybe you should talk to her about that. I'm sure she'd appreciate hearing your thoughts." By proposing that X speak directly to [Daughter], TRT is momentarily avoided, but...

"Well, don't you think she ought to [blah, blah, blah]? I mean, if she does this, [so and so] is going to happen."

Again, I try to divert TRT by saying "Well, I think we've raised her relatively well. It's her life, after all. She is free to make decisions about things like that."

Through the telephone I can hear X's blood pressure rising exponentially by the nanosecond. "Well, I'm just trying to say that we need to tell her that [blah, blah, blah] and if she does this, then she's going to end up doing [blah, blah]."

And here is where I pull one out of left field...the rusty but trusty Broken Record tactic. "If you feel that way, maybe you should talk to her about that. I'm sure she'd appreciate hearing your thoughts."

X increases the volume as if I've spontaneously developed club disease, "I'M JUST TRYING TO SAY THAT WE NEED TO TELL HER THAT [more blah, blah, blah]."

This goes on for some time with more and more desperate attempts to pull me into TRT. When the call finally ends, I'm absolutely exhausted but NOT guilt-ridden (my normal reaction). It feels so good that I vow to practice staying out of The Relationship Triangle over and over again until it's habit. Speaking of TRT, note the repeated use of "we" by X in conversation. He uses "we" as if there were one. This is a syndrome I've termed the Armchair Dad, cousin to Armchair Quarterback. X thinks that by saying "we" a lot in conversation that I'll forget that no one in this house has seen his face in some time. He thinks that I'll forget that WE haven't been around everyday for ballgames and chemistry projects and crying babies and visitors. WE haven't taken daughters to get their driver's license or fed infants or cooked supper every night. It's funny. Sometimes I wonder if that we-business he uses works with other people. I guess it must.

I'm hoping that today's exercise has drawn me closer to good mental health, but I'm not sure. I am spilling my guts about this to ones and twos of people. What does that say about me? Maybe I should just send a link to this post to My Shrink. It would sure save some cash and maybe then I wouldn't lose sleep wondering where My Shrink gets all of her cute shoes.