The Bartender Therapist: or, a harem forming about me

I happen to have lots of problems.  I don’t know if it’s because of this or in lieu of this, but I seem to gather about me women with just as many issues.  Whereas my problems are continuous – and generally kept under wraps – it seems like their lives, on sporadic occasion, blow up in their faces.

All at the same time.

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Nature v Nurture: and Socially Unfortunate Behavior —

I’ll never understand why my mother feels the need to belittle people around her when she is feeling inadequate.  This is something that she has done since I was a child, and, unfortunately, it was something that I had learned from her (as well as a host of other socially unfortunate behavior).

I think I never understood the adverse effects

teasing could have on people –

until I did — 

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Happy being unhappy —

Though I wouldn’t call myself an artist in any professional sense of the word, I am rather left-brained.  It would seem that often madness and emotional turmoil go hand in hand with a heightened imagination and deeper need to nurture the soul through creative endeavors.

Growing up, my father always played the Blues.

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Always Been Crazy —

Throughout my childhood, I suffered silently through feelings of self-hate, paranoia, and the fear of disappointing my family.  Although I performed well in school – performed being the operative word – I was never truly happy.

My fear of doing “something wrong” stopped me from truly experiencing the life I was, at the time, blessed to live.  My childhood passed me by without any meaningful friendships – or, for that matter, really any friendships at all.  At an age where I should have had innocent relationships with my peers in order to understand myself and really blossom into the person I would have become, I studied hard, had manners, and always did the right thing.

But I was fat.


And this was always held above my head as the ultimate failure.  My wealthy relatives on my father’s side insisted that my mother had “made me fat” out of spite to embarrass them amongst their friends in high society.  My father asked, although out of concern for my health, whether I did not want to sit in a chair without taking up the whole thing.  And my mother continued to feed me.

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