Dr. Bantam May 2008

Дневник Эллоувин.

Подробности

· Статус: Не женат/Не замужем

· Здесь для: Друзей

· Родной город: Сан-Франциско, на линии разлома

· Телосложение: 41 см / Стройное

· Знак зодиака: Скорпион

· Дети: Когда-нибудь потом

Therapy Session #152 10/16/2006

I just wish I felt like I made more progress. Dr. Bantam, my therapist, insists that the sessions are going well, but I don’t know. The more I look at my past and family history—well, I just get more and more confused. Anyway……

Sybil did it again. When I got home, she was waiting for me on the bookshelf by the door. She jumped on my head—knocked my hat off—hissed and dropped to the ground. Then she turned and looked at me, and I swear if a cat could smile, she was smiling and took off toward the bedroom. I probably won’t see her again until dinner. I bought her fresh fish—I hope she likes it. She just gets so nasty when she doesn’t like her food. I can’t help but think how nice it would have been to have a cat that actually likes me…..

Saw Rufus on my way home. He’s so sweet to me—although I have to wonder why he bothers. My best friend Prudence says I shouldn’t say things like that—but I just can’t help it.

Prudence has to work at the bookstore again tonight. I know she likes it—she’s so good with the people that come in, but I kind of miss our time together. She really loves school—I’ll bet she’ll be a famous writer or something someday. I just wish I had the energy to be good at something.

Well, I guess that’s about it for this week. I think I’ll head over to see Prudence—she’s working at the bookstore and then I’ll see if I can find some dinner for Sybil. (Note to self—she hates blue fish—don’t ever buy again!)

Therapy Session #152 (continued...)

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This should all be about my therapy sessions—it’s supposed to help in some way. But sometimes I just don’t want to think about it and write down stuff that I just talked about, but, well—here goes:

We talked a lot about Mom and Dad. I called home yesterday, and mom wasn’t feeling well again. She spent the day in bed—I think she and Dad had another fight. Dr. Bantam thinks it’s some sort of avoidance on Mom’s part—but who knows?
Then of course, I had to tell Dr. Bantam about my brother Freddy. He set another pair of shoes on fire. I just wish he wouldn’t do that. They all said he would outgrow doing things like that, but he’s almost sixteen and he does stuff like that at least once a week.
The one good thing that happened this week—I heard from Grandmother. She’s still traveling—Oh, I miss her so much. I feel close to her, living in her house, but it’s not the same as having her here. San Francisco can be kind of lonely sometimes.

I guess that was about it. Can’t think of anything else we talked about. Oh, gosh, I think I hear Sybil in the kitchen……

Therapy Session #153 10/31/2006

Dr. Bantam wasn’t all that happy with me. I guess I was a few minuets late for this week’s session—I think she thinks it’s about avoidance or something……

It did turn out to be a fairly interesting session. I told Dr. Bantam about my friend Miles who asked me why I just don’t get rid of my cat, Sybil. Sybil doesn’t really like me—at all—but I’ve had such bad luck with pets. She seems to be the only pet I’ve been able to keep for any length of time—she may not like me, but at least she doesn’t leave. Of course, as soon as I got home, I found that she had torn up a wonderful old, vintage sweater that I just bought.

Anyway, Rufus stopped by after his work yesterday and helped me bring in the new rocking chair I found in front of an old building that was going to be torn down. I love the chair—it’s seen better days, but I think, if I clean it up a bit, it could be really nice in the living room. I think Rufus thought it was kind of a funny looking chair—but he didn’t say anything and didn’t laugh at me. That’s what I like about him. He’s always so nice.

We talked a little about Amber today. She’s always been so mean to me (and to Prudence) and I just don’t know why. Dr. Bantam asked me when it all started, and I told her that it kind of started the first day I met her. It was the first day of Kindergarten—she was playing in the sandbox—and Prudence and I just wanted to play too. But she pushed Prudence down, and then hit me with a pail—I still have the scar. I thought maybe it was something I did…. Anyway, it’s never gotten any better with her. Dr. Bantam wants to talk more about her….maybe another time.

I didn’t see Mother or Father this week—they didn’t say, but I think Freddy must have done something again. I wish he could come and live with me, but they think he’s too young to be away from home for any length of time.

Well, I guess that’s about it for this week. I think I’ll head over to see Prudence—she’s working at the bookstore and then I’ll see if I can find some dinner for Sybil. (Note to self—she hates blue fish—don’t ever buy again!)

Therapy Session #154 November 20, 2006

Dr. Bantam wasn’t at all happy that I missed last week’s session—sometimes I just don’t feel like talking. I try, I really do, but I just couldn’t face therapy last week.

This week I talked about Rufus and Amber. I think Amber’s mean to Rufus because he’s nice to me—but maybe that sounds too self important. Maybe she’s just mean because that’s the way she is. Anyway, Last Thursday Rufus offered to help me bring up a piece of furniture to my flat. He’s so sweet like that. I found a desk at a flea market—it’s beautiful—well, it will be when I get it done. So, he borrowed a truck and picked the desk up and drove it over to my house. While he was parked there, Amber drove by. She said something to Rufus—he wouldn’t tell me what—and then she made another call on her cell, laughed and drove away. Within a couple of minuets, the police came by and questioned him. It seems someone reported a suspicious truck parked outside my house—the caller said she thought the house was being robbed! We explained why Rufus had his truck in front of the house—he was very patient, and still he helped me with the desk. I hate to think badly of people, but it’s very difficult not to with Amber…..

I told Dr. Bantam about my neighbor a few blocks over—she’s an elderly lady—a little gruff perhaps—but she loves my best friend, Prudence. Her name is Rose and has a wonderful old Victorian house that needs a lot of work (but I kind of like it the way it is). We met her the night we found my cat, Sybil. Prudence keeps going over there to help her out when she can. At first Rose didn’t seem to want any company, but I think she’s really warmed up to Prudence. Prudence is working on her garden—it must have been wonderful at one time—and it’s starting to look much better. Prudence says she has a good feeling about Rose—like we’re all tied together somehow. Sometimes, I don’t always understand the “feelings” that Prudence gets.

I tried to feed Sybil skimmed milk last night. Big mistake. She really doesn’t like anything but cream (and she’s getting a little fat) but she sure wasn’t happy about the skim. So, she tore another towel to shreds. I love cats—I know so many people who have such nice ones—I just don’t understand how Sybil can be so hateful.

Anyway, that’s about all we’ve discussed—I’ll see if I feel like going back next week. Ellowyne

Therapy Session #155 December 6, 2006

I’m afraid I had a lot to say to Dr. Bantam this week. I went home for Thanksgiving, which is what you’re supposed to do, right? Anyway, it was pretty much a disaster. Freddy was just out of control, and that just made Father crazy……I’m getting ahead of myself.

I arrived at my parent’s house on Wednesday night. In a way, I was looking forward to being there—I do dreadfully miss Freddy, and my parents too, I guess. Anyway, when I got there, Father was working late and Mother was doing her best, in spite of her headache, to prepare for dinner the next day. Freddy was in his room—he rarely comes out—he’s always playing his games—but he did let me come in. He told me that they tried to get him involved in the holiday, but he really didn’t want to participate. (I really think it was probably an understatement….) I tried to help Mother as much as I could—I’m not all that good around the kitchen—cooking doesn’t make sense to me, and the poor bird—I just couldn’t look at him—it just creeps me out. Anyway, I went to bed pretty early and I heard father come in pretty late.

The next morning, as Mother did more preparation, she asked if I could coax Freddy into watching the parade on TV. I tried, I really did but those character balloons really scare him! He was back in his room before the first commercial.

Dinner was pretty awful. It wasn’t that the food was bad or anything (of course I didn’t eat any of it) but the first thing that happened was when Father went to sit down at the table, his chair collapsed. It seems that Freddy took all the nuts and bolts and screws out of it and Father just fell on the floor. He was furious and started yelling at Freddy, so Freddy ran back to his room and I didn’t see him the rest of the day. Mother was so upset that she just went back to bed and Father and I sat at the table. We don’t have much to say to each other. I feel like I’m a disappointment to him in some way.

The one good thing that happened was that Grandmother Emily made it later in the day! She was able to calm father down and fixed a plate for Mother. And by the end of the day, Freddy came back out of the room and Grandmother even got us to play a game of Scrabble.

Grandmother was going to drive me back to the city but we had to go in our stocking feet. (I just don’t understand Freddy and burning shoes). Grandmother stayed with me on Thanksgiving night, but she had to leave again on Friday. I miss her so much when she leaves! And I couldn’t believe Sybil—she was as nice as she could be to Grandmother.

Well, that was about it. I’m not looking forward to more holidays but Dr. Bantam thinks I should try making my own holiday with my friends, like Prudence and Rufus. Well, enough for now.

Therapy Session #156 Christmas, 2006

Oh, it’s been weeks and weeks since I last saw Dr. Bantam and she was not the least bit happy about it. She says that the only way I’ll make progress is if I keep up with my sessions. I suppose she’s right, but I just dread talking about the holidays—they just never seem to go right….

I become anxious right after Thanksgiving—it’s the pressure to be happy and to buy presents and all. I know it’s suppose to be a wonderful time of year—it never is for me—or for my family for that matter, and I always feel like it’s my fault. I think Dr. Bantam hates when I talk like that—she says I’m not responsible for making everyone happy. She also says it’s somewhat egocentric of me to think that way. I have to consider that…..

I guess I shouldn’t worry about what I get people for Christmas—a few days later they don’t remember what they got from me anyway, but I do try. Of course, Freddy’s easy—I just get him another pair of shoes and I consider it a success if he doesn’t burn them the same day. And Grandmother seems to like whatever I get her—this year it was another antique broach for her collection. But mother and father…..

I drove to my parents on Christmas Eve—Prudence had invited me to stay with her, and I probably should have, but Mother sounded like she wanted me home and she doesn’t ask much…… Anyway, when I got there, Father was still at work, Freddy was in his room playing his games and Mother was just sitting by the tree in the living room. She loves Christmas, but I don’t think it ever turns out the way she plans. We talked for a while and that was nice. I know she would have preferred to have Father home, but in spite of that, she seemed in a pretty good mood. I went in to say hello to Freddy before bed—but he was in one of his silent moods and pretended like he didn’t hear me so I just went to bed. Dr. Bantam always asks me how I feel when Freddy’s like that—I don’t know. I think I’m just used to it.

Christmas morning, we all got up fairly early and everyone seemed to be in a pretty good mood. I started to feel a little better about coming home. The housekeeper, Mrs. Fenspot, was there—she fixed us breakfast (she said she didn’t mind working on Christmas—I don’t think her family wants her at home—she can be rather hateful). Right after breakfast is when things started to, um, go bad. It turns out that Freddy put Mrs. Fenspot’s boots in the microwave—they had metal on them—so there was a mini explosion in the kitchen. Father was able to put out the fire, but he was furious with Freddy, and Mrs. Fenspot stormed out of the house—saying she’d never come back. Unfortunately, she changed her mind that next day.

We had to open the windows in the kitchen—the boots really smelled. Anyway, Father calmed down a little and we went into the living room to open presents. That part is always a disaster. Freddy opened his gift from Mother and Father first—it was a new game for his computer. He wanted to play it right away, so he left the room and we didn’t see him anymore—well, that is until we had to leave for the hospital. I opened my gift from Father—it was a check again. I try to be pleased, but I feel like when he gives me a check, he doesn’t even try and I think I hurt his feelings. Mother gave me a new blouse—it’s something I’d never wear, but at least it wasn’t just a check. But the worst part was my gifts to them. I bought father a book of architecture—“The Brighten Award Book of Great Homes”. I thought he would love it—but it turns out that he’d been nominated ten years straight for the Brighten Award and has never won. He thanked me, but he didn’t seem to want to look at the book. I was most excited about Mother’s gift. I bought an antique perfume bottle—it was beautiful—and had a friend of mine create a special perfume for her. She really seemed to love it—that is until she put some on. It was like as soon as it touched her skin, she started to swell up—she had some sort of reaction to something in the mixture. We had to call an ambulance and we spent the rest of the day in the emergency ward at the hospital.

I went back to the city the next day. All in all, not a great Christmas.

Even though I had Prudence look in on Sybil while I was gone, she had dumped her litter all over the house—I don’t know how she did it. All the time I was cleaning up after her, she just kind of stared at me. I don’t know what I’m going to do with her. My friend Suanne suggested a book about crazy cats for me to read. I did read it (Prudence was able to get it for me) and it was good, but it seems that nothing I try works with Sybil.

My friend Myles said that Sybil is mad at me for trying to put her on a diet—and I think he’s right about that.

Well, that was my Holiday. And I don’t even have the energy to talk about New Years….. Maybe next year I’ll just go over to Prudence’s or Melissa’s for the Holidays.

Therapy Session #157 - Prudence April 30, 2007

I know, I know. It’s been weeks since I’ve written in my journal and Dr. Bantam isn’t happy about it. I so hate to disappoint her, but this time of year just seems so, well, so sad. It rains all the time here and I just don’t feel like writing…..

I guess a lot has happened over the past few weeks… The strangest thing happened on Valentine’s day—I received a huge basket of fresh cut flowers—they were just so beautiful (and I did taste a couple of them). There was no note, and of course they couldn’t have been for me. But when I called the florist to say they made a mistake, they assured me that the flowers had been delivered to the correct address. I figured out that they must have been meant for Grandmother (she hasn’t lived in the house for a couple of years). That night I cried myself to sleep—after all, how sad that someone sent such beautiful flowers to Grandmother and she wasn’t here to enjoy them.

The next day both Prudence and Rufus stopped by and I told them about the flowers. Prudence is always so supportive—she said that maybe the flowers had been for me. That’s just ridiculous and I told her so…..she gets frustrated with me. Rufus just seemed uncomfortable with the whole conversation. He’s so sweet, but sometimes I just don’t understand him.

Prudence is seeing a lot of an elderly woman named Rose who lives a few blocks over. Her house is more than a little run down although at one time it was probably the nicest house in the area. Prudence is working really hard to help Rose get her yard in order, and that’s wonderful, but I don’t see her as much and that makes me sad. I’ve only met Rose once—we found Sybil in her yard. I remember it was raining and the little kitten looked so sad and wet, but trying to help her wasn’t easy. We were both scratched to pieces by the time we got here back to my place. Prudence said that Sybil would relax and become friendlier, but that never happened. Anyway, Rose seems very nice and I know that Prudence really likes her.

I don’t know if I ever mentioned anything about Prudence’s “gift”. I know it sounds silly, but I think she can “sense” certain things. She seems to know when something good or bad is about to happen. She told me that I have some kind of connection with Rose. I can’t imagine what that might mean.

Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever told Dr. Bantam the circumstances of Prudence’s birth. Her mother was at a séance, (it was during a thunder storm, believe it or not) and Prudence was born right there. We both think that’s really cool and I think that’s why she has her gift.

I promised Dr. Bantam that I would do better with my writing. If it only wouldn’t rain so much……

Therapy Session #159 - Father October 17, 2007

I’ve just got to get better about writing in my journal. Dr. Bantam almost never loses her cool, but I think she was about to today—she says it’s really important to keep it up.

It’s father. He’s in jail. We talked and talked about this in session today—I was just so upset about the whole thing.

I guess I need to start at the beginning—it might help me make sense of it. First of all, mother called last night and told me that father was in trouble. I mean he’s never, ever been in trouble before—I don’t think he’s ever even had a parking ticket. But anyway, Mother called. The police had just taken him away. I was so worried about Mother because she gets so upset when things just go a little wrong—I knew this was totally going to push her over the edge.

Anyway, Mother told me that Uncle Arthur had Father arrested. It had something to do with stolen architectural plans and a robbery at the firm. I know Father didn’t do it—he never would—but then why else would Arthur blame him? Uncle Arthur’s been around our family for so long. He even knew Grandfather Jack, so I don’t know how he could do this to Father – unless there was a good reason.

According to our Lawyer, Father will be out of jail later today—well, out on bail anyway. I’ve asked Prudence (she’s always such a good friend) and Rufus to go home with me, because I just can’t face all this alone……

Dr. Bantam was so good to me through all of this and I really do feel better after talking to her. But today I had this really weird feeling that she’s never really liked, well, or trusted Uncle Arthur. I want to like him, I really do, but it seems that when anything really bad has happened in our family he’s somehow involved—and then there’s Amber (Arthur’s daughter). I’ve tried to like her, and I try never to say anything bad about her, but she can just be so mean. I did tell Dr. Bantam how I feel about Uncle Arthur, and she didn’t say anything. I mean he was there when Grandfather Jack got killed in the horrible rock climbing accident. Anyway, I’m sure it’s just coincidence and I think it’s counterproductive to think that way.

Prudence should be here any minute—I really need to see her. She and Rufus will help me feel better about all this, but I sure hope she doesn’t get started on Uncle Arthur. She’s never liked him or trusted him—and for that matter, I guess it’s the same for Rufus. I’ve never heard him say anything bad about anyone, but he sure doesn’t like Arthur.

There’s the door bell. I really don’t want to head home but I have to—I think Mother needs me. And I have to remember to get new cat food. Sybil really, really didn’t like last nights dinner. I guess it’s my fault though; I shouldn’t have left my new sweater on the chair.

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Therapy Session #158 - Prudence Moody July 15, 2007

Note: Ellowyne Wilde’s therapist, Dr. Bantam, has asked Ellowyne to record her therapy sessions at home, as she remembers them. Ellowyne regrets that she’s not as good at writing as she thinks she should be, however, she can’t imagine anyone wanting to read what she has to say in any case. The following is an excerpt of today’s session…

Dr. Bantam wanted to talk about my friends today. I mean, she knows a lot about them already and I really don’t want to bore her, but she kind of insisted so I talked a lot about Prudence. I mean, she is my best friend and everything—but I don’t see how talking about Prudence can help Dr. Bantam understand me. Prudence is just so, well, normal. Well, mostly normal. OK, somewhat normal. At least she’s more normal than me.

I told Dr. Bantam about the day we were born—it was odd really. We were both born on the same day under rather unusual circumstances. My mother was at a funeral. Dr. Bantam was surprised at that, but that’s what happened. Mother wasn’t due for another couple of weeks but there I was. And, Prudence, well, her mother was at a séance. From what Prudence has always told me, they had just contacted someone…… Anyway, I’ve always felt that was very cool.

Then of course, we grew up together and were in the same classes in school. She’s been so good to me. Amber Stanhope always tortured me in school, but Prudence would be right there to defend me. Some people think she’s kind of weird, but that doesn’t bother her. Really, nothing seems to bother her. She does seem to know about things before they happen—I think that’s really neat, but it freaks some people out.

Then I told Dr. Bantam about when we found Sybil. Sybil’s my cat. Well, not really my cat—she doesn’t like me. She just lives at my house. Anyway, we were at my house—I think it was a Saturday—and it was raining out—that I remember. I was telling Prudence how bored and depressed I was. So she said something about how people who are depressed should always have a pet. I’ve had very bad luck with pets—and I mean very bad luck, so the idea really didn’t appeal to me. But once Prudence has an idea, it’s hard to talk her out of it. So, believe it or not, on the way to the animal shelter, we found Sybil. At the time, I couldn’t believe that someone could tie an animal to a fence in the rain, but they did. We got her lose and took her home. Prudence encouraged me to keep her, and I try not to hold that against her. I mean, Sybil is really mean.

For the next couple of weeks, we tried to find out where Sybil came from, so we put up posters with her picture and all that. But it was hard. The only pictures we could get of her were when she was hissing. I have a feeling that even if her original owner saw the posters, they wouldn’t come get her. Anyway, she lives at my house now.

Dr. Bantam asked me how much I know about Prudence’s background. I think pretty much—I mean, after all, we are best friends. Her parents are really nice. Her father is a policeman—his name is Joey Moody. Her mom is an artist and a psychic (that’s where Prudence get’s her special abilities). They own the tiny bookstore a few blocks away and I love to go in there. I think Prudence’s grandmother (who knew my grandmother) opened the store a million years ago (actually, I think in the sixties). It’s an awesome store but they’re having trouble I think, because of all the big bookstores that have opened. I just hope they don’t go out of business or anything—it just wouldn’t be the same in the neighborhood. Anyway, when I feel like going out, we spend time in the bookstore.

Another good thing about Prudence is that she’s always trying to make me feel better. I try not to be depressed around her, but sometimes I just can’t help it. But she does try to cheer me up. And she has this thing about Rufus. Rufus is just a great friend—I’ve known him for years—but Prudence thinks he likes me. I know he likes me, but I mean, like for a girlfriend or something. I think he’s too nice to like someone like me. (Dr. Bantam just hates when I say things like that….)

We also talked about Prudence and my younger brother, Freddy. Freddy won’t talk to many people but he feels very comfortable around Prudence. In fact, he’s never, ever set fire to her shoes (it’s a long story). Freddy and Prudence talk about all kinds of things—I think she’s very good for him.

Well, I guess that’s about it. Wait. No, she also asked me what Prudence looked like. She’s about my height and probably weighs the same as me. She has light brown hair, but she loves to put color streaks in it. And I love the way she dresses. She just throws things on and always looks great. The kids at school used to make fun of her, but she never cared, she just wore what she wanted. I think she’d be a great fashion designer if she ever wanted to…..

That’s all I can remember from today’s session. I think I hear Sybil in the kitchen and that’s never good

Therapy Session #160 - Meeting Rufus January 1, 2008

After making excuses for far too long, I decided it was time to keep this week’s appointment with Dr. Bantam. She tries to hide it, but I can tell she gets upset with me when I miss our weekly sessions, but honestly, some weeks I just don’t see the point.

Dr. Bantam likes to ask about my past…she thinks it has something to do with my chronic ennui. But with Christmas just last week, and all of those past Christmas memories with Mother and Father…well, I just didn’t feel like talking about it at all as it usually ends up being just too dreadful.

It turned out I didn’t have to worry after all. Dr. Bantam asked me about Rufus, of all people. Secretly I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d much rather talk about Rufus (or anyone else!) than the holidays. She wanted to know how we met. I really had to think about that, as it seems like I’ve known Rufus forever.

We met when Prudence and I were in seventh grade – that’s when we enrolled in Briermier Academy. It’s where Mother and Father both went, and it’s where they first met. It always seemed so romantic, and we had visited the school over the years, so I had a pretty good idea of how it was going to be. I loved the campus and the teachers were great. And it’s where I met Rufus. The only bad thing—Amber was sent there at the same time.

I know, but for some reason, she seemed to leave me alone a little bit more. Of course, she was still pretty nasty to me, and would embarrass me whenever she could, but there were a lot more kids for her to pick on at Briermier.

Okay, back to Rufus. Like I said, we were in seventh grade and he was a student at Briermier and in the eighth grade. He was tall and thin and his features seemed a little off balance to me. For instance, his nose could be considered by some to be a little big for his face and his eyes may be a little close set, but I remember thinking the whole affect was very pleasant. He was always cheerful and at the same time, a little shy. Whenever he started to feel uncomfortable in a situation, he would make jokes--usually really bad jokes. And he was always very nice to me.

Dr. Bantam knows that I’m still friends with Rufus – he’s actually the handyman employed at my Grandmother’s house, so I see him quite often. And he’s just as nice today as he was back at Briermier. She asked if there was anything more than friendship to our relationship. I think I may have blushed for the first time I can remember, but shook my head no. I mean, I like him and all, but I’m sure he doesn’t think of me like that.

Dr. Bantam asked if I ever asked him, but really…I couldn’t even imagine. We’re just friends. Anyway, to get back to how we met.

I guess it was in the eighth grade when the thing happened with Prudence. Dr. Bantam seemed very intrigued, but as she reached for her ‘medicine’ and tea, she noticed our time was up and said we’d have to continue the story at our next session. I told her it was okay, and put on my hat and coat and left for home.

And for some reason, after leaving her office, I did feel a little bit better…but I’m not exactly sure why……

Love,
Ellowyne

Pondering Paris March 20, 2008

I’m going to Paris, how can this be?
Such wonderful things never happen to me.
My therapist thinks it will do me some good,
But will it affect me the way that it should?

When twilight lends its gloomy power,
I’ll first ascend the Eiffel Tower,
Or walk along the river Seine
Where lovers meet but part again.

I’ll ponder great Napoleons’ tomb
Lamenting his untimely doom.
Then I’ll explore the catacombs
Where many famed found final homes.

Grand Notre Dame may sound its knell
Did Quasimodo ring that bell?
I’ll view where once the guillotine
Sliced the head off France’s queen.

I’ll tour the Opera Garnier
Where poor Christine was hid away.
The Phantom could be lurking near
Perhaps he’ll drop a chandelier!

Les Miserables and sad Cosette
Break my tender heart and yet
A journey through a fetid sewer
Is not a very pleasant tour.

To Oscar Wilde’s grave I’ll go.
Is he related? I don’t know.
At Père-Lachaise I’ll strew a rose
to honor him in his repose.

At posh cafes I’ll sip sweet cream,
But snails are a bit extreme.
Even if they taste quite well, I won’t become a sluggish shell.

The Louvre may pass the time awhile.
I’ll weep at Mona Lisa’s smile.
French Fashions with an attitude
May help to lift my dour mood.

I’ll buy new outfits every day
And sigh at every chic display.
So much to see; so much to do!
Will I still feel bored and blue?

(At home it’s just boredom, in France it’s “ennui”)

Love,
Ellowyne

Dr. Bantam May 2008

As you know, at a very young age, I was diagnosed with chronic ennui, with just a touch of melancholy. And I’ve been seeing Dr. Elaine Bantam, psychotherapist, for what seems like forever.

I thought it might be interesting to write down what I do know about her, which I realize isn’t very much. Quite honestly, our sessions are always focused on me, which makes sense, I guess. But sometimes I’d rather talk about anything than me and my woeful life. I do try to ask her questions, especially when I want to change the subject, but I never seem to get an answer.

In any case, I’ll start with her office. I think I would call it rather old-fashioned feeling – kind of like my Grandmother’s house, which is probably why, despite my reluctance to go some days, I like it there. The overstuffed wingchair in the office is made of brown velvet with wooden claw-like feet. Every time I lower myself into the chair, I imagine myself snuggling into the lap of some huge teddy bear.

Dr. Bantam herself is an attractive woman, for her age, which I would guess as somewhere between north of middle age and a little south of elderly. It seems like she has long since given up the battle with her appetite—and is resigned to staying a size fourteen. (If truth be known, she’s really more like an eighteen – but I would never say that out loud). She has a glorious mane of steel grey hair that she told me she has worn in a bun since college (in college, it was to make her look older, now, decades later, I think it succeeds). She always wears professional looking clothing--crisp white shirts, grey flannel skirts and cardigans with just a touch of tasteful jewelry.

In spite of her professional demeanor, she has a kind of motherly quality that many of her patients must find soothing, including me. You can tell that her patients seem to be her life, and perhaps that explains why her early afternoon “tea” has more than a small kick to it.

Our sessions have always been the same. I try to be polite, but I’m never too chatty. Usually I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say. And Dr. Bantam is always very attentive, but never really gives me answers, but just has a way of making me think of them myself. What they mean, though, is a totally different story.

Lately, I think Dr. Bantam has been growing ever more frustrated with our sessions, which is probably why she recently decided that this was to be the day she was going to get me to open up. I wasn’t so sure it was that great of an idea, to be honest.

She told me, very nicely, of course, that she senses my ennui has not lifted even after all these years of therapy, and I still seem, well, a little melancholy.

(Sigh…) And I have to admit, I think Dr. Bantam knows me quite well. But I’ll save this session for another day…I’m already a little tired from all this writing...

Love,
Ellowyne

Дата добавления: 2015-10-28