|Chicken Soup for the Middle-Aged Man on the Flying Trapeze
||[Mar. 12th, 2004|11:52 pm]
The American Caliban
I had a Brain Inventory today. Hils asked how I was doing on toner. Actually it was funny (haw) because I had left my wallet at D’s right before the appointment with the psych doc and when I filled out the Brain Inventory one of the questions was “Do you frequently lose important objects?” YES OFTEN.|
This therapy is right on the borderline between New Age Bubblehead and Science, which is probably good for me in a number of ways. It’s genuinely holistic, in that she looks at all sorts of causes and cures for the brain rot I seem to have. I’m not sure how I feel about all of it (when people talk about things like nutritional supplements I get nervous), but the EMDR bit and some of the attention to things like diet and exercise make sense.
I was sent off to buy some pop psych book with a title like SQUEEZE YOUR BRAIN, SQUEEZE YOUR BALLS that I have not started yet to read.
EMDR sounds like Modern Therapeutic Phrenology but you know, I’m about to try anything that doesn’t involve Scientology or psychic surgery at this point.
Also, no exorcists thanks.
My latest theory on human relations is that communication is actually impossible and that our insistence to the contrary is a form of near-universal hominid psychosis. Please do not steal my Nobel Prize/Macarthur Grant for this one.