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Therapy (Part 4)

Updated: 7 hours ago

“Hello Clint.”


“Hey Doc. Do you think I can stretch while we talk today? Do you have a foam roller?”


“No Clint, I don’t have a foam roller here. But you’re welcome to stretch. Are you tense?”


“Tight.”


“Where are you tight?”


“Everywhere.”


“Have you been training again? Or are you still out with your knee thing?”


“Still out. Somehow sitting around at home makes the body feel worse than getting the shit kicked out of it. The body is weird that way, huh?”


“Are you sure it’s your body, and not your soul, that you’re feeling?”


“What do you mean?”


“You love doing martial arts. You had dreams about being a great fighter. It was your passion for 10 years. When you train and fight, you are feeding your passion–you are feeding your soul.”


“Yeah, I feel you, Doc. It does feel like that, and without it in my life, I feel lesser. I feel like I am missing a piece of my soul. If I didn’t have the other parts of my soul in my writing, my guitar and my books, I think I would’ve died a while ago.”


“Died?”


“Yeah Doc, died.”


“How would you have died?”


“There would've been no place for my soul to go. My whole identity was wrapped up in being an elite fighter. That's how I was going to get respect. That’s how I was going to show my friends and family that I’ve been working hard towards a goal. That’s how I was going to make money. It was all of me. It was my only plan. They say you have to burn the boats to be great at something. That’s what I did Doc, I burnt: the boats, and the bridges, and all of my time. I burnt: my shoulder, my hamstring, my nose, my hand, my back, my knee, everything Doc! I gave all of myself into that dream. I lit that passion up. Just for 2 or 3 moments as an amutaur…”



“My soul would have fizzled out if I didn’t find ‘The Artist’.”



“‘The Artist’ is you?”


“It’s one of my alter ego’s.”


“Are you a superhero, Clint?”


“Close. I am a super villain–who sometimes does nice things for the people he cares about.”


“That doesn’t sound very villainous to me.”


“‘The Artist’ thrives in the chaos, Doc. So does, ‘The Fighter’, but that’s a different kind of chaos. ‘The Fighter’ battles an external chaos, while 'The Artist is fighting the internal chaos.”


“Very interesting…”


“Battling the chaos sounds like the motivation of a hero to me. Why don’t you see yourself as the hero, Clint? That’s how most individuals see themselves these days.”


“‘The hero myth.

The land of the free.

But not free to be anything but a caged bird that sings.

The west, where we are better than the rest.

The hero myth grows and grows and grows–

all these individual heroes make up this ‘home’.

America

a big reflection of ourselves,

and instead of ourselves staring back,

we are shocked to see Narcissus in our eyes.

But the hero myth gets retold,

stroking the fragile ego

of an American made narcissist.’”



“Did you just quote yourself?”


“That was a freestyle Doc. Off the top. Not bad, huh? Don’t worry, I won’t charge you for that.”


“How kind of you.”


“So are you afraid of becoming a narcissist? An ‘American Made’ Narcissist? That’s why you don’t want to view yourself as a hero?”


“Oh Doc, I know that you know that I am at least a little narcissistic. I mean, aren’t we all?

I just don’t want to get any worse. I don’t want to feed, ‘The Narcissus’, in me. I want to starve him.”


“Is ‘The Narcissus' another one of your alter ego’s?”


“He lives with them. I just try not to use him. Him and ‘The Judge’ are good friends. They want me to be perfect.”


“You sure have a lot of characters in that head of yours. Are there any more?”


“Sure, there are a few more. There are: ‘The Child’, ‘The Philosopher’ and ‘The Lover.’


“Huh, you’ve already taken a few therapeutic principles and applied them to yourself… It’s interesting. And you’ve been using these ‘characters’ in your writing?”


“They’ve been using me, Doc.”


“How curious…”



“So what do you think are some of your narcissistic qualities?”


“I’m so introverted these days, Doc. Everything I do is for me. I wanted to be a great fighter, for myself. I wanted to be a writer, for myself. I am learning the guitar, for myself. I workout, for myself. I read, for myself. Hardly any parts of me lay inside other people. I’ve split my soul up and put them in ideas–in potential; personal potential and ideas about what I could become. I fell for the American myth. ‘If you work hard enough, you can achieve anything.’ But that’s not true, is it? Sometimes you work incredibly hard and the universe doesn’t reward you. Life isn’t fair that way, no matter what the myths say. I am a product of my environment Doc, and this environment is full of individual, narcissistic, pleasure-seeking zombies. But here’s a question I want to ask you, how do you become aware of how bad your narcissism is? Like how much should I be focusing on myself, and how much should I be focusing on others?”


“Firstly, I think we need to work on shifting your perspective about your fellow westerners. ‘Individual, narcissistic, pleasure-seeking zombies’? That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”


“Is it, Doc?? I can’t tell anymore…”


“I think that if you give some of your soul to other people, they’ll give you some of theirs in exchange. It might not always be an equal ratio though, keep that in mind. Sometimes you’ll put all of your soul into someone, and they won’t give a shit about you; but other times, someone will put their whole soul into you, and it’ll be beautiful and terrifying. You have to try, Clint. You have to try with them.”


“I am trying, Doc… I am trying…”



...


...


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"'You and I are both villains in someone else's story'..."


"What? Who said that?"


"I did."


...


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"I wrote it a long time ago..."


-C.H.

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