I Can Save You Years of Psychiatry

I can save you years of psychiatry by what I realized while I was sitting on the fourth floor of the Psychiatry Mill today waiting for my imaginary appointment.

It was this...if you want the Impossible, if you crave Impossible things to happen and be amenable to happening in your life, you are crazy. This will never go away, not with any combination of pyschotropic drugs and no matter how many years of talking cure you have.

I don't mean if you want things that sound nearly impossible to happen, things like becoming superfamous or very wealthy or having tons of amazing lovers. Those are pedestrian desires. I mean if you want the IMPOSSIBLE to just be a fact of life.

If that's you, you are hopeless.

But if that's you I probably love you. You are probably one of the few people that are here on this planet who will make my life any fun. You are one of the few reasons I made it to the ovum that night forty-four years ago. Because I will watch you try and fail at this grand thing you have in your head like a wonderful historical tumor. And I will try and fail at this, because I think I realized I do want the Impossible.

So why am I talking to psychiatrists and psychologists.

They can't give me the Impossible. They can't even decide on an ideological mainframe and stick to it. They're not sure whether they're social workers, scientists, medical professionals or cultural critics.

The Impossible.

I think pompous French people called it le merveilleux because they had to call it something other than the Impossible in a manifesto.

If you just want your life to make sense or a partner who understands you or the ability to earn your keep so you won't feel guilty before you die, by all means pursue psychiatric treatment. They will probably help you with these goals. You can do it.

But if you want THE IMPOSSIBLE, try for that too. Because YOU CAN'T DO IT.

But you SHOULD. YOU MUST.

That's my favorite epitaph. Some French tombstone somewhere in high grasses said "JE DOIS." I MUST.

That's so funny.

And you must. Do that impossible thing. I can see it milling in your forehead.

You pretend you are sensible. Or you pretend you will be sensible in the future. You wear sensible footwear. You blog sensibly. You take sensible digicam photos.

But I think we both know the truth.

Just let that chimera out of its little kennel-cage.

I'm eager for that day I just don't understand you, I just don't understand you at all.