But...but...I Got Nothin'.

I'm defensive. And I make jokes to avoid that issue.

Don't you tell me you know that already. Your mom knows that already.

Damn.

I am realizing more and more how tightly I hold onto things. Um, the wrong things. And I'm trying to figure out ways to let them go. But, at the risk of sounding crazy corny (mmm...crazy corn), it's damn hard to let walls down you don't even know are there.

I surprised my therapist by crying in session. I surprised my fiance when I called him afterward. Hell, I surprised myself. Emotions aren't supposed to do that, are they? Come over you like some horrible surprise party where self actualization jumps from behind the couch and knocks you into the punchbowl?

Is weeping supposed to be like a lottery win where you get kicked in the face? Sudden, unexpected and leaving you with a swollen face?

Seriously, I know that normal people aren't Movie Pretty when they cry, but holy moly. I put frozen spoons on my eyes this morning to get the swelling down. Then I put on eyeliner to try and dress it up. The upside is not having crow's feet because you're swollen. The downside is you look like an Asian woman with a bee sting. Or I do. I don't know what you look like.

I'm pretty sure one isn't meant to be ambushed by emotions. Which means I cover up a lot, so I probably don't give them the attention they need. I make jokes. I give zingers. I constantly have a comment. I enjoy banter. Apparently, that doesn't communicate zippety dick about my feelings.

The catch is that, on some level, that really does make me happy. I'm laughing when I do that, fer cryeye. When I am on some kind of roll, whipping the comments out (probably at the expense of using the conversation partner as a setup man instead of someone to talk to), I am laughing. Is that...is that not joy?

Therapist questions, "But do you like yourself?"

Is it not good to sit with someone who understands this patter and go until we cannot breathe? Is it not joy if it isn't stillness?

Therapist questions, "Can you be still? And like yourself?"

Is it not joy if it's twitchy, mile a minute, caffeine fueled and brilliant? If I am making others laugh and letting that make me feel good and quick and smart...is that not joy?

Therapist questions, "And do you like yourself?"

Well, no. Not entirely. Because then I wouldn't have this awesome, self effacing wit.

Oh sure...sure NOW it sounds like a weak rationale. But you know, when I was doing it before, it was awesome. You know. When I was doing it...most of...my um...life.

Aw, hell.