No Hypnosis, Goddammit

The last few counseling sessions with Couch Potato have been largely unproductive. First of all, Couch Potato wanted to hypnotize me, which I am not comfortable with. I explained to her when I started therapy with her a few months ago that hypnosis was out of the question and to not bother with wasting any time analyzing my childhood. I was there for one reason only, to sort out the failed relationship with Jennifer. I thought I had been clear on these points, evidently I was not clear enough. Couch Potato suggested we do some hypnosis therapy last week and I was adamantly against it. This surprised her. I didn’t go into detail as to the why, but the real reasons needed to remain a mystery to her.

When I was younger I committed some crimes. No one was harmed in the process of carrying out my deplorable acts against society, but the crimes were serious enough that I don’t speak of them to anyone. I have a fear that under hypnosis some of these things might come out and I won’t have any control over spilling the beans. I am also concerned about divulging secrets on the classified work I did for various smart weapons programs. I have no idea if Couch Potato would expend energy on subjects like that but it’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Another more personal reason I refuse to participate in this kind of therapy is simple. I have seen things, experienced things, done things I can never tell a soul about. To a degree I think every person has some things in their life or past they just can’t ever tell anybody or explain. I’m paranoid I’ll babble all kinds of junk to this woman and seriously regret it afterward.

I accidentally discovered that my father happens to be a patient of the Couch Potato. This has caused me to feel awkward during our sessions. I didn’t mention anything to her about it for a while, but I finally brought up the fact that Dad was also in therapy with her and she came clean about it. After I started my sessions with Couch Potato she didn't put together the odd coincidence that two of her new patients had the same last name, and they might happen to be related. When she asked me about my Dad however, I complained so much about the fucker with great detail she easily put the puzzle together. I think she figured it out a few weeks before I did. Couch Potato assured me nothing I confide in her will ever get back to Dad, or vice versa, but it’s still uncomfortable. From her perspective I could see this must be a real treat. Imagine being a professional psychologist and you have both the father and the son to study. I’m sure her notes in my case file have been very interesting lately.

During my last visit, Couch Potato wanted to try something new. She suggested we do an exercise, if you want to call it that, where I closed my eyes and pretended to be back at my parent’s house where I grew up. She instructed me to imagine I was standing outside the house. I grudgingly played along with this scheme although I have to admit it seemed really silly. So there I was, standing on the front lawn of my parent’s house in the shade of a tree. Couch Potato then said that I should look at one of the windows of the house. In the second story living room window, she said I would see a child staring outside at me standing on the front lawn. The child was supposed to be me, and she asked me, “What do you want to say to that child? What do you want to tell him about yourself? Is there anything that the child is trying to say to you?” I completely lost my composure at that point and busted up laughing right in Couch Potato's face. This was so stupid. I kept on laughing and said to the Couch Potato that this was all too dumb to continue.

I think I irritated the shit out of her.