In Treatment

Ooooh! HBO's In Treatment is so good. I know I am writing about this about a month or two after all the magazines told you it was the show to watch on HBO. But whatever. I have On Demand. And I'm too busy to watch things before they become cool.

Anyway, this show, which is a real time conversation between therapist and those in treatment, stars, among others, a wicked old Gabriel Byrne, an amazingly hot Blair Underwood, and an a very squinty and poorly dressed Dianne Wiest.

The whole concept is pretty cool, especially for someone like me who's never been to a therapist but likes to pretend she's one every now and again.

Gabriel Byrne is a very sad and messed up therapist. He's in a loveless marriage, he's exhausted, and he's lost his passion for his work. For some reason I could watch him play this character endlessly. He's by far the most interesting character on the show because you get to see him be both self-absorbed and completely absorbed by the others.

Laura is his first patient of the week and is a total sex addict and commitment-phobe. She makes me angry because she's the show's only single, professional woman, and she has to be so totally messed up. The deviant version of Sex and the City. She shows why it's clearly NOT ok to always be on the prowl like Samantha -- because it makes you kind of a sociopath.

Alex, played by Blair Underwood, is fine to look at, but he annoys me more than any of the characters. I think it's because he most closely resembles the man I date over and over and over again. Well, he's totally narcissistic, slightly OCD, and so detached from his emotions it's laughable. And he's a veteran. So, yeah, at least a good half of my ex-boyfriends.

Then there's the teenage gymnast who makes you never want to have children, and the married couple who makes you never want to get married.

And finally, squinty Dianne Wiest, who seriously puts Gabriel Byrne in his place at the end of every week (she's *his* therapist). She's an inspiration the way she whips this guy's mental ass. I have been contemplating a Master's degree in psychology just so I can tell a guy he's being a jabrone and get paid for it. OK, I know that's not really a selfless motivation, but whatever.

This show is so awesome. TV time is such a luxury, and I have already had to carve out too much time from my busy schedule to watch this show, but I absolutely love watching how these different personalities react to Gabriel's probing questions. It's so amazing to me how what's so clear to everyone on the outside is often so hard to handle when you're confronted with it from someone else's perspective.

Emotional baggage and damage is a consistent theme in my writing, so I am glad there's a whole show to trumpet the cause. Go watch it. It will either fascinate you, or put you to sleep. And we all need more sleep, so either way it's a win.

Yoga and perspective

I first off wanted to brag about my stellar performance at yoga class last night. I did two moves successfully that I have never, ever, ever been able to do before:
The crow and the bird of paradise. I've added pictures below, so you can marvel at my talents.





I was absolutely psyched because I've never been able to do the crow without face planting, and last night as I was crouching down, at the part where I usually get all nervous and think about how much it's going to hurt when I fall on my face, I instead said to myself, "I'm going to do this. And it's gonna be awesome." And I totally did. The bird one was a little crazier. I saw myself doing it in the mirror, freaked out because it looks totally unnatural, and fell over after about 1 breath. But I got there, and that's the first step.

So, that's the good news.

Today, on the eve of Valentine's Day, possibly the most evil plot perpetrated on single women in America today, I got to chatting with MSFAM about relationships. She's in one, and like most of us, has been in some previous baddies, leaving her with trust issues.

We were talking about how there are things that girls naturally do better than boys. And believe me, I could fill a few pages with this one, but I'll just focus on what we were talking about: remembering things significant to the relationship in great detail.

Men usually find this psychotic. They just don't understand that most of us are simply programmed this way. And we got to the "maybe he just doesn't understand women..." part of the conversation, and I said this:

"Well, no man does, really. They especially don't understand the ones they're in a romantic relationship with. The closer you are to people, the less you understand them because the more you rely on them, the more you only see their actions in terms of your needs."

A grand generalization, yes, I know. I'm almost being unfair. I should bow down and hail all those relationships where the communications skills are equal, perfect, fair and objective. There really are so many examples. Like....um...right.

But really. I know I've caught myself at this with men in the past. Ex.: I assume he's mad at me, so everything he does or says indicates that he is mad (whether or not it's the case) which then effects how I react (because I think he's mad, so I'm sheepish or defensive or nasty) and then, we both really get mad. For no reason.

Or when you are in a relationship giving advice to the other (solicited or unsolicited) but for some reason, when it's coming from you, rather than a third party not intimately involved, it's somehow a loaded gun instead of friendly advice.

I don't think all this is a given. I think miscommunication just becomes alot easier when your back and forth is mediated by email, text messages, third parties, *blogs*, and phone calls that come at really inopportune times so instead of being the main attraction they become distractions. And of course you have to acknowledge that certain sense of self-centeredness and defensiveness that comes from being in a bunch of failed relationships - that doesn't help much either.

I think open and honest communication is certainly attainable, and a great goal to have. I just worry sometimes that too much emotional damage, and too many channels of communication and interpretations thereof create more obstacle than enhancement. Which is why I do the crow and the bird of paradise. It grounds me, so that when someone communicates with me, I can take it for what it is. Or what I interpret what it is to be.

Jeez.

Never mind.

Selfish.

I read this on my friend Tyrone's away message. Sometimes it's worth it to K.I.S.S. (keep it simple, sister). When we spend too much time whining, moaning, complaining and wondering why certain people are so nasty, so mean, give us the non-verbal FU. They're just selfish. And you'd do better not to have them in your life. Read on.

Question: Why are people nice when they want or need something from you and afterward they are jerks?

Answer: Because it is all about them and no one else. This is called 'selfish'. They will do anything to get what they want, as long as it is not hurting them. If you stop giving to them, then they will stop doing that, but then they will likely not come around much anymore. These people are not friends and it is better if they do not come around. Unfortunately this happens to all people at some point in their lives. And there are so awful many of that type of people in the world today. They always want something for nothing. The only way to stop it is to stop giving them what they want.

BINGO!

Awhile back, My Sister From Another Mister (MSFAM) told me about this fun game you can play with your ex's. It's called "Whatever-was-a-consistent-and-slightly-troubling-theme-in-your-past-
relationships BINGO!" Basically, it's a way to count how many relationships have gone sour with guys exhibiting some similar trait. It's fun, and totally unique to your own, sad dating situation.

We told some 21 year old about it and she was like, "Why would you do that?"

"Because, you young, naive thing," I said, "it gives meaning and levity to all your failed relationships."

I don't think this is a new game; MSFAM just put a name to it.

In college I knew a girl who played Boys from Many Lands BINGO. She tapped all the exchange students (the Russian was my favorite because of the way he said "Cheese Nips"), and anyone who was a naturalized citizen. She fell in love with some local guy for a while and stopped playing, but all in all, she did pretty well.

I know plenty of gals out there who've played Musician BINGO, Fine Arts BINGO, Celebrity BINGO. It's never ending.

Totally by accident, MSFAM played Differently Abled BINGO. She got three. With the free spot, she's one away from a win.

Me on the other hand...my BINGO card is full. I started playing Mental Illness BINGO in college, and I'll tell you, I just won the coverall. I've decided it's time I stopped playing.

I don't think mental illness is funny, or anything to laugh about. In fact, I never even really noticed the pattern. Until recently. When it dawned on me, I have dated men with the following:

1) Depression
2) Generalized Anxiety
3) Compulsive Lying
4) Seasonal Affective Disorder
5) Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
6) Addictions of various kinds
7) Mood Disorder
8) Bipolar
9) Social Anxiety
10) Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
11) Panic Disorder

And though I don't have confirmation, I'd be willing to bet there was a narcissistic personality disorder, body dysmorphic disorder, certainly an undiagnosed binge eating disorder, and separation anxiety.

Believe you me, I don't find this hysterical, and I'm certainly not one to make fun of folks who are facing these kinds of challenges. I've been a witness to far to much of the sadness, secrecy, and heartbreak (usually mine) that comes from mental illness, so I definitely take it seriously.

The thing is, when I say in that silly and sarcastic way of mine, "Men are crazy," am I signaling to the Universe that I want all these dudes sent my way?

I'm trying to figure out what this is supposed to signal for me as I move forward. Am I supposed to follow the inevitable path and become a psychiatrist? Or perhaps avoid dating altogether and sign up for the convent? Or is it that I myself have several dozen undiagnosed mental illnesses and should therefore get my a$$ to the therapist and start hashing some stuff out?

I'm still trying to figure it out. But I just wanted you all to know, I'm retiring my BINGO card. I've won some great prizes, but I've lost a little more than I've gained, and I have spent far too long in the smoky, depressing, poorly lit church hall playing this particular round. It's time to move on.