Psychoanalysis

I keep telling myself a story, using various women, in which I do everything right but am still left, feeling somehow at fault and unable to prevent or repair the loss.

Aha! Or, duh!

A reader recently suggested I consider therapy. This is a ridiculous suggestion. Not because I don’t “need therapy” – I do. But because I am, in fact, one of the world’s largest consumers of therapy. Here’s a graph, showing Americans’…

I’ve drunk at the altar of Freud. Or, maybe more accurately, Freud is my bartender. I believe in the unconscious. Profoundly. I speak the language of psychoanalysis, in all of its weird, uncomfortable-making ways. I believe in the universality of…