I tend to worry

I tend to worry. It’s my go-to-way of dealing with life. I’m certain things will not work out. They often don’t go down the shitter though. Usually they work out better than I could imagine. Yet the worry continues.

In order to finally create some radical positive thinking, this morning I took my time machine and traveled to 1902 Vienna, and the apartment of Sigmund Freud, for the noon time Wednesday Psychological Folks Society meeting. They were a group of therapists that got together to talk about things therapy-y. In my usual way of doing things to the extreme, I went in, laid down on a couch, and profusely shared my worries.

They took extensive notes, often interrupting to ask me about my relationship with my mother.

When I finished expounding, I sat up, and asked what they thought. They stared at me.

Then Carl Jung said, “This morning I had a session with a new  patient who believes she is a worm. I told her she doesn’t appear to be a worm. She said that’s because she was wearing clothing, makeup, glasses, and a wig. She proceeded to remove these accoutrements. There sitting before me was a worm. I apologized for questioning her, then asked how I might help her. She said that she had a fear of being placed on a hook and used to catch a fish. I told her to avoid going near the docks.”