“Is there some no-man’s land between morality and madness where I can park my mind?”
A nervous laugh follows the question and still seems too tired to fulfill its own fate.
Y has been coming to therapy for half a year now and we have established a mutual math adding protocol and satire to conversations that are rhizomatic, unconfined and open to interpretation.
When Y first stepped into my office, he was precise from the word go. He had an expedient degree of self-awareness, a history of therapeutic engagement and attested to comparative success within the format of one-on-one counseling. He had a carefully sorted file and an affable personality. A quick scan of his medical history and his affect combined with physical presentation indicated no particular skew except for the dark circles under his eyes, a gift of insomnia which is now almost an inbuilt feature for our whole generation.