“Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I” wrote US songwriter Lorenz Hart about the feeling of infatuation. It’s blissful and euphoric, as we all know. But it’s also addicting, messy and blinding. Without careful monitoring, its wild wind can rage through your life leaving you much like the lyrics of a country song: without a wife, […]
I have decided to dedicate a post on Thursday to therapy, and offer you the many tips I have learned on the couch. They will be a good reminder for me, as well, of something small I can concentrate on. Many of them are published in my book, “The Pocket Therapist: An Emotional Survival Kit.”
But I have done exactly that in so many of my relationships.
I invested my heart over and over again into a friendship that couldn’t nurture me in the way I needed. I was determined to find unconditional love with a relative who was more interested in his golf game than in my report cards. Continually, I’d walk to the well, hoping that I might draw a few spoonfuls of water, only to retract a parched bucket.
“Love me, please, just love me,” I’d beg the person who was incapable of loving me back.
Now I’m getting smarter. For a confidence boost I don’t write to a gal who delights in belittling me. To feel safe and loved, I don’t call up my former boss who hated me or the ex-boyfriend who fancied my friends more than me.
I try my best to go to the bakery for bread.