“So, what are you afraid of?”
Jan stared at the doctor’s old wrinkled face as she pondered the question, wondering what the hell she was doing here in the first place.
“I’m afraid I’ll become someone or something I don’t like,” she replied without emotion.
“What do you mean, like a rabid dog? Your mother?”
Rabid dog? My mother? Is that your shtick, buddy?? Maybe YOU should see a shrink. “No, I’m afraid I’m not who I think am.” She looked at him, his face withered like an old piece of used-up paper. I could fold him up and stick him in my pocket, carry him around with me. Whenever I needed advice I could just pull him out. Instant karma. She laughed to herself. Oh god, maybe I AM crazy.
“Why are you afraid you don’t know who you are?
“Pardon, what was the question?” Stay on track, Jan.
“Why are you afraid you don’t know who you are? A lot of people your age have problems with identity.”
Identity was one issue, depression another. Self-esteem ranked up there with both of them. She dealt with them all on a daily basis. If that wasn’t enough, she lived in a household that screamed dysfunctional. Oh man, why had she agreed to see this doctor anyway?
“It’s like sometimes I feel like this nice person who everyone likes. Then all of a sudden I feel like this other person, someone who isn’t very nice, if you know what I mean.”
“Hmmm, interesting.”
“You know Doc, the Indians of the southwest believed that some spirits were shape-shifters and they could become animals, other sprits or even other people. Sometimes I feel like that. I feel like I’m a shape-shifter.”
“Are you aboriginal?”
“No.” Jan was starting to get fed up with this guy. Jan Spickowitz. Hardly an aboriginal, Doc.
“Well my dear, perhaps you need to relax more, get some exercise. Do you need more pills? Have the ones I prescribed run out?”
“No, the pills are good.” In truth, she never took them.
Jan sat tight-lipped for the rest of the session. She didn’t want to talk to some ancient doctor who knew little or nothing about being a teen on the brink of discovery. All right, perhaps not discovery. But certainly she was on the brink of something. Maybe a nervous breakdown. Teenagers were known to have nervous breakdowns and behavioral problems like rebelliousness. Jan wished she could have gone that route but being rebellious was too scary. Who knows what would happen to a girl once she gave up her innocence? Oh god, she could end up losing her virginity and then what? The sky would fall for sure. So yes, rebelliousness was out. Drugs? No way. Too dangerous. Her brother told her that people he knew died of drug overdoses. No, Jan wasn’t ready to die. At least not yet. Although death did fascinate her. That was the issue she should be discussing; her absolute obsession with dying and death. Why it so appealed to her, she didn’t know. But from early on, death just seemed to be a very interesting topic. Nobody liked to talk about it. If someone in Jan’s family died it was all hush-hush. Nobody ever said, “So-and-so died”. It was either “They passed away” or “They’re gone”. Gone where? That’s the big question, isn’t it? But right now Jan had other issues to deal with, like getting this session over with before lunch. All of a sudden she was hungry. It was time to leave. She got up from the chair and started for the door, aware the doctor didn’t seem to notice. Maybe she was a shape-shifter, shifting herself into an invisible teenager. Poof and she was gone.
Years later, as an adult, Jan saw another doctor. He was pleasant enough, but at over three-hundred pounds she didn’t think he had any business talking to her about addictions. She often found herself thinking back, looking into the abyss that was her past. She believed everyone looked back, into that wide chasm filled with all the hurts, the screams of anger, the pain and the hopes. That chasm that is the past and the future and the now, all thrown into one giant gorge. She recalled so vividly her desire to be a shape-shifter, her intrigue and curiosity about the American Indian’s pursuit of truth. That was all Jan wanted. She wanted people to speak the truth. That young girl was so lost, trying so desperately to navigate through the emotions of growing up without a spirit guide, without someone to tell her “Hey, it’s okay, this will pass”. Jan now embraces that young girl. She keeps her close. That young girl erupts sometimes at the most inopportune times but Jan doesn’t care, she’s glad to have her around. She keeps Jan grounded and real. Jan often marvels at the fact she’d gotten this far in life being obsessed with death. She always thought she’d be dead at thirty.
Eventually, Jan found she didn’t need a spirit guide. She didn’t need to be a shape-shifter to survive in the world. It took her thirty years to figure it out, but all she needed was the inner strength that was her. She just needed to trust in herself and in her own truths. Now all she had to do was stay alive long enough to enjoy her revelations.
Jan didn’t know what brought on the morbid thoughts of her past, her vulnerability and innocence, but she reveled in the memories. Over time, she became her own spirit guide. The old Jan and the new Jan had joined together, like an old married couple. They bicker, they fight, they share a great sense of humor. And sometimes they think they’re shape-shifters.
Some might think Jan has lost it, but if you looked closely, you’d see she’s found the one thing that makes her truly happy: she’s found her true and wonderful self.
Photo Credit
Photo courtesy of Martha Farley – all rights reserved
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