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  • Writer's pictureA.S. Morris

Noise, Catastrophe, and Vacation....

I've been on a few weeks break from therapy. I hit a bit of a wall. My therapist is great. Her and I are a good fit. She challenges me and pushes me. Do I like it, not always. Is it fun, not so much. I needed a break. We have a standing date every Tuesday at 0800. Its not exactly the highlight of my week; some weeks it is. Its been almost 10 months since all this fun started.


We can look at this in the frame work of the dramatic arc; exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and catastrophe. Aristotle is who we can thank for our modern day structure of a play. To really dumb down Greek philosophy and Aristotle's Poetics he believed that plays should be produced as a whole; beginning, middle, end. Horace, he was a Roman drama critic, then joins the party. Horace's real name was Quintus Horatius Flaccus, even in 65 BC us English speakers managed to change his name. Anyway....Horace initiates the idea of a play not being longer than five acts. If we fast forward a few years or centuries....we meet Aelius Donatus. Aelius introduced us to the protasis,epitasis, and catastrophe. To wrap up today's history lesson we come full circle to the dramatic Arc, brought to you by German novalist Gustav Freytag, he came on the scene in the 1800s.


If you are still reading and I haven't completed bored you, I will pull this story back together. Consider this some early morning editorial commentary. If i sit here and think where I currently land in the dramatic arc id have to go with climax meets falling action. In theory, or at least I hope, everyone who reads this is hoping I've hit the highest point of the drama. Which was 10 months ago. I have had some dramatic moments since then but none that have involved threats of the magistrate. I consider that a win. It is said that when a character is in the "falling action" that their scenes be fewer than those in the rise to climax. PRAISE THE LORD. Granted the idea is fewer scenes not less intense or challenging. Besides does this story end as a comedy or tragedy. Will there be a denouement or catastrophe?


The few folks I've shared my therapeutic hiatus with all looked at me with looks of skepticism. They all literally gave me the same look. Same arched eyebrow and all. One told me I have control issues, I said I didn't, they said there is literally a chapter in a psych book about my decision. We agreed to disagree. The other individual I shared my news with was over sushi. I was slightly concerned I was going to be stabbed with a chopstick. The third was my husband. I quietly told him on the couch one night. He asked if I had seen my therapist lately, I think he was looking at our finances. Therapy is expensive. He says I am worth it....I thought that saying applied to diamonds. Which he did spoil me with on our 10th anniversary and mothers day. Still though....sparkly objects and shoes are much more fun than therapy. Maybe i'll start wearing my glitter and fancies to therapy....


How I am explaining my break is taking pause to take stock. How has therapy impacted me the past 10 months. Where have I grown? Where do I still need to address? What are my current goals and what are my long term goals? Most sessions are still mostly scattered. Yes they are my sessions and I drive the train. At the end of the day it is up to me to share. Up to me to determine how much I want to unpack. I like lists and spreadsheets. Checking off boxes. Therapy is like one giant doodle my seven year old has drawn. A knotted ball of yarn that even the best knitter can't undo.


Unlike my pals Aritotle, Horace, Aelius, or Gustav I don't know what the ending is going to be; comedy or drama. None of us know what our ending will be. My actions can dictate paths and journeys. My choices can be wise or foolish. Sometimes they are a combination of the two. Nobody is perfect. We have all made choices that didn't go exactly to plan. Perhaps my friend who brought up control was on to something. Asking for help has never been my strong suit. I was someone who never really needed help. I did well in school, found a job that became a career that fuels my soul, motherhood ( though challenging) wasn't so bad. I knew how to juggle and balance and tight rope walk all at once. Circus perform extraordinaire. When things started to build and people were asking to help and what I needed, I was paralyzed. I knew I needed help. I didn't know how to ask or what to ask for. All the things I needed, knew I desperately needed anyone one of the folks who offered would have obliged. My needs were not cumbersome or extraordinary. People were saying you are so strong for balancing everything and impressed at how I was managing. I mistook asking for help as a weakness when in fact that is a strength. This is something that I still struggle with. I had quite the implosion. Lifetime movie level of implosion. I know I don't want to do that twice.


Sometimes I am not really in the mood to talk. Which I realize is odd for someone who writes a blog. Sometimes I just need a calming presence. Someone to sit with me and not be afraid of silence. Rumor has it I am slightly high strung.


I am on vacation for the next 10 days. I am hoping this 10 days will allow me to really focus and take stock. Away from the hospital and all the noise that comes with working. Trying to step away as much as possible and trying to ignore emails. I know this will not be 100% possible but it comes with the job.


This week my job will be to focus on me and the other things and perhaps a little less noise....well there will be noise, lots of it, but the good kind.

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1 Comment


Josephine Schmidt
Josephine Schmidt
Aug 08, 2020

I especially like your last paragraph...take to heart your own words...breathe to the rhythm of the ocean...and bring me back a pretty seashell from the beach. I love you. ❤️😘

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