I know I wrote a blog about comparing unlike things, but really, couples therapy as a pain in the anything….? Not unlike.
I have decided that for my own physical well-being, the Sheepdog really will bite the dust. And get this, my partner agrees! I’m really out of it!
The Sheepdog doesn’t know this yet, and since I’m off to NYC for a few days, she won’t hear it until October 17. I am composing speeches in my head. They go something like this:
Please don’t start talking about dust motes. Or the details of psychological theory I learned about 10 years ago. Or all your own habits. Or what we’ll learn about you as we stay on forever or until you finish a sentence which may take longer. Because that doesn’t work for me. None of this works for me. I have other things to do on Monday nights. So, good-bye.
I think John Sarno might say that keeping my not-so-unconscious rage to myself might have been a better idea.
But, right now, at this moment, I have no back pain. Which is a big plus.