If I ever (finally) made up my mind to go to the psychologist appointment, I’m pretty sure all I do there would be just be sitting still and skeptically staring at the psychologist without even saying a single words. With the clock tickling loudly as backsound and wind blowing hard from the opened window behind, trying to fill the empty atmosphere.
Me and my inner-Wednesday-Addams-soul.
Every words came from the the psychologist that trying to dig deep into my mind would just replied by my-“What’s your business? Why’d you want to know?-gaze. Funny.
Guess what the funniest? As a person who has to deal with her existential and emotional crisis regularly, I ever had a thought to go to the psychologist or other mental helpers several times. Yes, I had. Things that prevent me to do so are maybe the price, the distance, and the fear for other human.
The fear for socializing, to be exact.
I just watched Alice Through the Looking Glass the night before and somehow I envy Mad Hatter for his sincerity of being lunatic. I envy him for being able to behave without a fear to be judged and alienated.
I’m definitely never be a people-person, but naturally human wants to be fitted and accepted. Therefore being as normal as we could sometimes is the dead-end. “He is strange, I would be so embarassed to be around him actually.” is kind of words that I have no courage to face. Bear with it, mask are everywhere. The more colors they are, the more toxic they might be.
I said it before but I’ll say it again: I envy Mad Hatter for being lunatic. Why can’t we have a privilege for being like him–or Madelline Hatter, at least–in the real life.