by Murray Bloom, guest columnist
The weather here is beautiful. Christmas is approaching. I’m doing great. Really, really great. Well, except for this midlife crisis. Yeah, but other than that, y’know, things are great.
Okay, I’ll tell you about the midlife crisis.
It all began a few weeks ago. I went to this show at the Hayden Planetarium called “Cosmic Collision.” And stop me if you’ve heard this before, but evidently our solar system is on course to collide with another solar system. And you know what that means. It’s going to be the end, the complete and total end, to life as we know it. The bright side to all this is that it isn’t supposed to happen for several billions of years. But, I dunno, I’ve never been one to see the world through rose-colored glasses.
To help me get through all this, I bought a book entitled “Your Midlife Crisis and You.” And I took some of the book’s advice. For example, the author talked about creating this safe place in your mind. Whenever you feel down, you’re supposed to close your eyes and sort of will yourself there. So my safe place ended up being a beach. But, I’ll tell you, the beach isn’t working out. Every time I go there, these Mormons show up asking me if I’ve read the Book of Mormon and would I like some information. And they’re nice kids and all and we end up having some interesting discussions (mostly about the BYU football team), but sometimes I just wish they’d get off my beach.
Now I don’t want you to think I’m joking here. I really am going through a life crisis. And the Mormons really do keep coming to my beach. And, when you get down to it, I really don’t get it: how on earth are they able to pedal their bikes through all that sand?
So I went to an analyst. And that didn’t go over so well. I later learned I reminded her of her ex-husband. I’d be in a session, talking about my problems, and she’d start weeping uncontrollably. And I’d try to comfort her and then next thing I knew she’d be taking her clothes off and then, without warning, she’d be punching me and telling me to leave and never come back. So I’d leave, and then when I got home there’d be seven or eight messages on my answering machine asking that I give her just one more chance.
So I finally got out of that relationship. And I went to another shrink, a man this time. And for several sessions we sat around and talked about my feelings and my past. And he ended up concluding that my problem was that I was a big, selfish, uncaring, two-timing asshole. I later learned that I reminded him of his ex-boyfriend.
But things have been looking up lately. I finally have some focus in my life, as I‘ve just enrolled in the psychiatry program here at NYU. So we’ll see how that goes.
Originally published at The Cynic Online Magazine.