“What do you want?"

"Just coffee. Black - like my soul.”  ― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

Had my weekly coffee break with the Shah this past Thursday.  He'd tell you that that hour is a session, therapy or something along those lines.  I prefer to think of it as a coffee break.  I have coffee, it's a break from what passes as a normal routine right now, ergo - coffee break.

So while I was enjoying a splendid cup of 100% Kona we (well me actually) attempted to delve into the swamp, maelstrom, minefield, no man's land of these things called feelings.  I am told that's a good thing.  It's healthy.  Yeah.  The jury is still out on that as far as I'm concerned.  But I had my coffee and I wasn't going anywhere so what the hell, let's see how this goes I thought.

I've had two main feelings for the past, I don't know how many, years.  At least in regards to Scarlett.  Anger and frustration.  I've attempted to deal with these in various forms at various times.  I've tried honest, no holds barred discussions with her, I've tried ignoring them as best I can, bitching and moaning to someone else, laughing at her (THAT one always sounded better in my head then it turned out as in real life) and just removing myself from the situation for a period of time.

The stinking lousy thing about feelings is that they seem to dog your tracks.  No matter where you go, there they are.  It's like they know where you're going before you get there and once you arrive, there they are to greet you.  Hi.  We've been waiting for you.  Hotel California with no need of the bricks and mortar.  Sigh.


So I explained to the good doctor (Shah) why I thought I had these feelings.  Feel like a lot of times I'm just being used, or played or taken advantage of.  I've also compared myself to a donkey, mule, horse, ox...choose your draft animal, with an ATM stuck on my rear end.  And none, not a one of those, seems to have receded in the past year plus.  If anything, it seems as though Scarlett is putting even more pressure on.  And when I say it seems as though, what I mean by that is that she is.  Just sounds a little better I think if I leave some room for giving her the benefit of the doubt.  Of which I have none.


Anyway, I guide him through the tax return gauntlet that I just recently ran, marveling at how no matter what I did, above and beyond for her, she would not for days consent to sign something.  Something that was not going to work against her in any shape or form.  Though that's not what her conspiracy theories were telling her.  And at the end of this I tell him that I don't know whether I should feel good about what I did for her or if I should instead kick myself in the ass.

I guess things are pretty bad when after being used you wonder if you should or should not be angry with yourself for (once again) allowing that to happen.

Well, given all that plus some of the other stories I have related to him over past coffee breaks, he tells me that anyone who was subjected to what I have been would be furious.  My anger and frustration are (in his opinion) fully justified.  And that is nice to hear.

The jury is still out on this feeling stuff though.  Just one of the many benefits and parting gifts when dealing with a cluster B I imagine.  Sigh.  I need another cup.