I’m Your Therapist and I’m Going to Cure Your Depression with a Lecture on the Brain
Many respond just as you have, with eyes glazed over with astonishment and mouths agape, almost asking to be fed more knowledge.
Many respond just as you have, with eyes glazed over with astonishment and mouths agape, almost asking to be fed more knowledge.
A single smudge on an otherwise clean French door? No worries! An entire handprint? It’s a crime scene.
Don't be fooled by what may look like simple affection. This is a manipulation tactic meant to keep you emotionally reliant on the Narcissist.
I'll have just spent $150 to have a breakdown when I could have done that for free, in my apartment, with ice cream.
Have you tried burping? What about being burped? It’s okay to be small and fragile sometimes. Or all the time.
You might think it’s strange how much time I spend on my own. You might even call it “sad” or “a little concerning.”
For one of the times when I said exhale, I meant inhale. I did not mean to instruct you to do double exhales.
If your therapist asks you whether Jason is your father, calmly explain that he’s your college friend’s old roommate.
For everyone telling me to get over it? Remember that I was juiced! As a child!
If you did not bring the appropriate attire for slithering or clinging, please see me after the welcome circle for gloves and knee pads.
Tonight, if you have dedicated your life to anything other than archaic information, you’re gonna have a rough time.
Let’s see. What else can we dredge up from the darkest recesses of your mind to totally fuck up your night?