I stopped going to therapy.

Because I feel like I’m fixed.

Not completely, but I’m at the point where I can recognize my problems, bad mental habits, and work towards fixing them myself. My anxiety — the reason why I went to therapy in the first place — is under control, and I’ve been delightfully drinking black tea in the mornings¹. No more suicidal thoughts either.

I asked my psychologist whether I could hang out with him outside of the sessions because I enjoyed his company so much on a personal level. From life to art to sociology, we would always stray onto a wide variety of other topics. Perhaps I found the human mind to be as fascinating as he did.

He told me that as much as he’d like to, his ethics wouldn’t allow him to do so. I brought up the option of going to someone else for therapy, so that we could be friends, but after a bit of consideration, I didn’t like that option either, because I really enjoyed working with him. On top of that, as he explained, he would be available to me if I ever required his services in the future. I won’t lie and say that it didn’t make me very sad, but I understood and respected his reasons.

So after my last session, we shook hands, and he said “I’ll see you when I see you. Take care”.

And he meant it.

1. Caffeine, along with many other things, used to trigger anxiety attacks in me. [↑]

I connect with Frédéric and Misun in two very different ways.

With Frédéric, we relate through our emotions, our drive, and the need to express ourselves. We also have a tendency to feel like outsiders, perhaps because we’re often judged or misunderstood. In this way we comfort each other, because it’s as if we feel less odd or alone.

Misun, on the other hand, is like my big sister. She cares about me, takes an interest in what I do, and gives me advice the way I imagine a sibling does. I can share my insecurities, my dreams, my feelings with her, as if I’ve known her my entire life.

Together, they encourage and support me, although never to the point of flattery. In this way, I know that I can trust them to be honest; something increasingly rare nowadays, as people hide behind smiles and empty words. When I’m with them, I feel like I’m wholly understood and accepted.

I always leave their house with a tremendous sense of hope, because they believe in me the way no one else ever has.

Having front row tickets to see Russell Peters means that you’re a fairly big target for being picked on.

Especially after Pat yells “WOO” amid an otherwise silent theatre when Russell starts to explain how Chinese people aren’t as cheap as Indian people. From that point, we were known as the “Wu” family, and he’d refer to us when talking to the Chinese crowd.

No one is off-limits though, and his ethnic jokes cover a spectrum of races as wide as the earth. I suppose that’s how he pulls off his particular brand of stereotyping comedy. Ottawa is an especially fitting place, where minorities mingle instead of segregate, and perhaps it’s exactly this reason that the crowd is so ebullient. It almost as if his set is written for us.

Afterwards, it was back to Pat and Jen’s for some conversation over hot chocolate from their Tassimo. A scoop of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream dropped into said beverage turns it into a yummy candy-cane hot chocolate, something I must explore further in the future.

Adam already has the best story of the year. I happened to be carrying when we were stopped for a traffic check on the way up (which made me nervous enough), but it wasn’t anywhere close to what Adam had on him. I didn’t need a flaming shot to calm myself though.

Isn’t it funny that Matt talks about burning his lashes minutes before Adam singes his own.

A photo of Lisa, lying on Trolley’s bed, treating her surface piercing with salt water after a mid-day burn. The light was already coming through the window, but the smoke made the individual rays distinguishable. I’m pretty satisfied with the way the colours turned out, although the picture doesn’t really capture how much darker the rest of the room was. Definitely a very particular mood, like being under a flourishing tree on a sunny summer day, with the cool feeling of grass underfoot.

Lisa is one of those people with which one can spend time without having to worry about running out of things to say. She can do enough talking to keep a conversation going, so as long as the vibe is right, there are no awkward silences. She gave me a super for the first time, and I could barely move afterwards (although this is also partially be due to the hydro I graciously got through Adam). It was a little scary to feel so out-of-control, but everything was comfortable enough for me to keep it together. I was peaking for more than an hour straight, something I hadn’t experienced since I first started, what Scarface would call, “back in the day”.

It’s always interesting to meet someone from a totally different group of stoners. Each group has their own style, rituals, etiquette. One can tell a lot from how someone rolls, how long they take before passing, how carefully they correct runs, or simply how they act when they’re under the influence. The session becomes a way for people to share their traditions with others, to discover the characters of people that may otherwise remain hidden behind the guard put up in everyday life. By taking part, one becomes open in letting others know that one is comfortable enough to even act out of character.