Back when I was in high school, I had to take a sociology/psychology class. It was interesting… Actually, that was how I learned what was wrong with me (that I was bipolar). I even considered becoming a psychiatrist for a little while.

Once, years ago, I was seeing this shrink who was born 50 years before Moses. He had this stoic poker face that made you think it would shatter should he change expression. One day, I told him I had considered becoming a psychiatrist when I was in high school. He asked what changed my mind. Aside from my desire to become an artist, I told him I was afraid someone would come into my office crying, “Doc! Doc! I want to kill myself!” And then I’d point and say, “There’s the window…” I actually got a smirk out of poker face! I was afraid he might break himself…

So I never went to school to be a psychologist or a psychiatrist. I’m not an entertainer. But, for some reason, that’s how I get treated. I’m a vessel people talk to when they’re bored or want to be entertained. And if they have any problems, they use me as their own personal therapist.

Don’t get me wrong, I like helping people I care about when they’re in emotional and mental distress. But there are a few that simply take advantage of the situation. I’m sorry; that’s not why I’m here. I’m not a way to cure boredom, I’m not a punching bag for you to take your frustrations out on, I’m not here to take abuse from you so you can feel superior and I’m not here to play cupid for you. You want that, I’m going to start charging by the hour for these sessions…

Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to avoid certain calls lately…

Morticia’s mother passed away last week. I know how close she was to her mother (I don’t understand it, but I know she was) and I knew how badly she was hurting. So, no matter how often she called, I made sure to answer and talk her down when she was losing her shit. I was trying to be sympathetic, an emotion I’m not very familiar with, and doing my best to help her because, well, that’s what I do.

Everything was fine until about two days after her mother’s passing. Suddenly, Morticia got onto politics, a subject she knows I don’t like discussing and one we see opposite sides of. I tried telling her nicely what I didn’t wish to discuss politics, but she kept going on, getting a bit radical about it. So I snapped the fuck out. I’m sorry, this is not the time to discuss politics. And, if that’s what you want, find someone who feels as you do. Needless to say, she shut up. I think she knows she’s not my intellectual equal and she also knows you don’t want to make an enemy of me. If I lose you as a friend, I won’t lose any sleep over it and won’t give a rat’s happy ass that you’re gone.

Needless to say, I was beginning to feel quite drained by all of this…

That’s normal when I have to speak to Morticia for any length of time. Inevitably, she brings up topics she knows she shouldn’t discuss with me and should find better suited friends for.

Even if she’s not approaching subjects that shouldn’t be discussed, she just has this way about her… She’s like a black hole that’s feeding off my energy and gives nothing back. And the longer I have to deal with it, the less time I can tolerate speaking to her. I found I was getting distracted from things I’ve been enjoying. I was in serious need of some zen…

I had an appointment at my shrink’s mid week. It went well. He agreed to start weaning me off my antidepressant so I can lose this fucking Cymbalta weight. I told him that going to new age shops had helped a lot (which he agreed, it does help) so since it was on the way home, I stopped in at my favorite hippie-dippy store for some renewal.

I instantly felt this overwhelming calm as soon as I walked in, which was usual. I bought a few necessitates, like more incense, some stones, a temple wind chime… I also bought some beads to wrap around my ankle and a beautiful ring. There’s just something about that store. Scoff if you will, but the hippie-dippy things seem to help me feel better, hence the reason I utilize them. Do they really work? I don’t know… It could just be that I believe they work, so they do. All I know is I feel better and that’s what matters.

I parked across the street from the hippie-dippy store in from of a sushi place that advertised, of all amazing things, bubble tea!

I have a friend that lives in the Philippines and she goes nuts over bubble tea. I see it a lot online and I see videos of people making their own. It made me so curious and gave me such a strong desire to try it, but I live in bumble fuck and we don’t have things you’d find more easily in large cities. So you can imagine my surprise when I found a place that makes and sells it!

After I was finished in the hippie-dippy store, I crossed the street and got a milk bubble tea. What a strange and amazing beverage! It was delicious! It also seemed to hop me up like I was on speed… It didn’t up my heart rate or anything, but I was so peppy and full of life that I was making myself nuts!

After some research, I found out that bubble tea is incredibly bad for you because it’s high in calories and sugar. But it’s worth it!

So I’ve made a decision… I’m taking a break from people.

I’m doing so well with my guitar lessons (my third one is today) that my instructor isn’t spending as much time on things that are coming easily to me. I’m already doing well playing “Wishing You Were Here”, I memorized the beginning chords… I’m so proud of myself!

For now, I think I need to just disengage from people for a while… I’m going to keep practicing my guitar every day and concentrate on building my energy back up, focus on my meditation and just let myself be… Happiness runs, happiness runs, after all…