More Psychoanalysis - I Asked For It!

Well, I did ask for it on Thursday. However, I felt that theories presented before me were erroneous and needed to be addressed.

This prompted a lot of the rambling down memory lane, which is never a truly enjoyable experience. Most of my younger middle school and up days do not make me feel nostalgic in some strange gooey way. I feel nostalgia is a word with a much deeper meaning, such as dragging your adult mind/body down a trail you've been on -- and hope never to see again. I still don't want to be "Smellogg" and "Ass-in-a-sling" or "Fugly" or any of the other "warm & fuzzy" nicknames that kids visit on each other. The Anonymous commenter (who clearly may have thought he was anonymous but is completely not) said this, "You seem to have left out of your blog that you BEGGED to be psychoanalyzed.... blah, blah, blah... then you wrote a three page blurb on why I was wrong?....interesting!"

He was not totally off the mark. I don't consider my issues to ones of abandonment. At the time that Harry Trebilcox was extricating himself from my mother's and grandmother's attempts to keep us a family, he ran, and who could blame him? He was being pushed and pulled to do something he did not wish to - spend time with me (this is my take on it, and may not be accurate from Harry's point of view. But I may never know...). But abandonment is not exactly the right word. When I was five or six we went on nature walks and on those we did well. Did I feel any affection for him? No, not by then. He had stopped drinking at that point and had what they called a dry drunk personality.

By the time I was beginning to realise that there was an issue of any kind, I had Ray as my father. Ray is everything that a kid wants in his or her father! He was always active, always wonderful. We always got along so very well. I used to sit on the lower counter in the apartment kitchen watching while he cooked! It was great. We would have the Beatles "Abbey Road" on, playing, "She's so HEAVYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!" What fun that always was! One time he wanted to show me how well centrifugal force worked. So Ray filled a cooking pot up with Brussel Sprouts, then swung him and down and around and upside-down and it was amazing - nothing fell out! The Ray put water in there and on the first loop-de-loop, the water came right out - SPLOOSH all over the kitchen floor - the sprouts did not move! We just stood there HOWLING with laughter.

Nothing has changed. Who is my father? I should say that it is quite evident that genetics do not a father make.

The would-be Freud also seems to think that my "flexible morality" is an issue and one needed some a. psychoanalysis and 2. something of a flaw that I may wish to fix.

My only downfall with men is that I love men. I love everything about men, the way they walk, talk, try to look nonchalant about everything, the list is endless. The muscular strength of their arms, the well-formed necks and my favourite places: strong chin, preferably with a small cleft in it, but definitely with a good squared off look to it. Nose should be some what aquiline but nothing too bulbous or round. A bridge is required. No unibrows! Yikes. Goatee is always a plus. Eyes should have a friendly open look to them. I love almond-y shaped eyes. Eye colour is very important - blue, green, grey, hazel, olive green are all acceptable colours.

I suspect that my erstwhile psychoanalyst is feeling that I am troubled by my flexible morality and that as a result I hold back from fully loving my husband. Not so. In the first place I love Luis completely and totally. My mind, my heart, all that I am, I am with him. I love him more fully and without reserve than most do. He satisfies the need for protector, lover, housemate, friend, child, warmth on the cold winter months, and coolness on the hottest days of the years. Our sex life is magical. (Especially now with his increased sex drive that a mere 40lb weight loss has returned!) He is catching up to my insufferable insatiable appetite!

I suppose it is hard to explain why I have my flexible morality when it comes to having excellent sex with my husband. I don't view my morality in this area as something deviant and abnormal. I rather view it as normal. Normal people should look beyond the confines of man-made marriage and see what happens. I am not complaining about sex with Luis. I just want to sample a few other men along the road of life! I'm going to encounter more anonymous' like this one.

I don't know that I have effectively broken done the whole "flexible" morality thing. There is it. Anonymous, you know I have high expectations of this and that you will have more questions are queries about this. Keep analysing! I'm quite enjoying it and I'm working some really old baggage out.