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9:45 p.m. - January 12, 2004
I need to come up with a name less juvenile than Mean Therapist
A good session with the group therapy tonight even if Mean Therapist started things off by saying, Jason, I thought weíd start with you. Iím glad he did though it was difficult to respond to his inquiry but you know the drill Ė no pain, no gain. We discussed detachment, what it is and why it happens with children, and I was pressed to identify and label the emotions and feelings surrounding the experience. I can talk about the brain and the chemical processes that are thoughts, I can talk politics and economics and science and so many other topics with confidence, though when it comes to feelings and emotions I am puzzled, am at a loss besides saying I donít know. What is the term that captures simultaneous appeal and fear? What word in English conveys the terror of not having an escape route with his hand rustling my hair? When I say I donít know, it is because I donít know how to identify, explain. Sometimes I register anger when I think about it, but most of the time itís why? and not knowing the answer, not knowing anything, is worse for me than what happened. And the disconnection, the detachment, cycle continues.

Mean Therapist remarked that I shut down and was resistant and when I began to protest he put up his hand and I shut up like an adolescent having failed to obtain car keys on a Friday night. How do I explain that Iím afraid of everything inside, how do I explain the kaleidoscope when I close my eyes and think about things, how do I explain that I must be strong and keep everything in place because Iím afraid of losing control and falling apart? How do I explain that Iím like a sponge dried and hardened and emotions are like water and only so much is capable of being absorbed?

I want to understand the why and thatís the answer Iíll never get.

*Bob is an older guy and I see myself in him Ė that cold, detached personality, the drive for perfection and excellence, reliance on the intellect, emotionally remote. I look at him and want to give up Ė give up what, though? Ė because if he hasnít figured it out yet, hasnít assembled the Rubikís Cube and made sense of it all by now, how can I?

I am different from the rest of the group when it comes to sexual intimacy. Apparently Iím one of those who avoid it as opposed to seeking it out. Will there ever be any rock under my feet? Tonight mentioned something off the cuff, how I do not view waking up next to a guy with distaste or the notion of being gay being disgusting. It is the sex that bothers me, the intimacy.

The morning after the first time Spec and I went for a walk on the lake shore and small waves breaking on the sand made a slick slick rhythmic sound, the sound of anal sex. And he whispered in my ear, Sound familiar? and I was ashamed. Why ashamed and not amused? Why was that the automatic direction? Perhaps a carryover of the shame of having gay sex, of having taken it up the ass from another man, of everything else we had done earlier. But I think my reaction goes deeper than that, goes back to when I was a kid and couldnít escape.

Iíve had problems saying no as a child and adult.

Everything I do is geared towards making me feel safe, secure. And if I canít say no, all my other boundaries are lines in sand.

This makes me sad.


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