Krazy Kash

For the first time in my life I was sitting in a psychiatrist’s office waiting room.  I had completely lost my mind, or so I thought. It did not help I was doing my own research on personality disorders and other mental illnesses. I self-diagnosed myself with at least three of the disorders I had read about thanks to the trusty Web MD. I wrote them all down.  I was prepared to tell the Doctor exactly what was wrong with me. He called me into his office. Here’s the tea…

“I have Borderline and Narcissistic Personality disorder and I think that I am Bi-Polar as well.” I said with absolute confidence. He just stared at me for a minute and let out a little chuckle. “Well, Kash it’s very rare that my patients come in with their own diagnosis, but since you already know what’s wrong with you why are you here? Have you been diagnosed with these disorders?” he asked.

“Well no, but I’ve been reading about them and I think that is why I am behaving this way.” I replied. It did not help Shwolf kept telling me I was crazy. You hear something so much you start to believe it.

I started to explain to him everything that had transpired over the course of the year with Shwolf, from beginning to end. I was shaking and crying uncontrollably, but it felt good to tell someone. I had left out a lot of things when I told my family and friends, so they would not worry or think I was stupid for moving in with him so quickly.

He asked me questions about my childhood, other relationships, and more about Shwolf. In three sessions he pretty much had me all figured out.

“A lot of times in therapy the person who needs it the least of the two in the relationship is the person who ends up on the couch. It sounds like you got involved with some self-destructive people, Kash. You need to dive deep within yourself and find out why.” he said. “You also need to find peace with what happened with your ex-fiance. You are carrying around a tremendous amount of guilt over something that was just not meant for you.” he explained.

I just stared at him. Damn. This guy was good.

“You need to get back into school. You are wasting your potential. In the short time we’ve spent together I can tell you are very intelligent. You went through some very traumatic things over the course of a year. Some of these things a lot of people would not recover from and you’re sitting here. That alone is something to be proud of.” he said.

I started to cry. He handed me a tissue.

“My advice to you is learn to control your emotions and don’t be so trusting of people. Miami is not the place to wear your heart on your sleeve.” he advised.


He shuffled through his papers pulling out the rough, rough draft of “The Nightmare on 7thStreet pt 1,2,3” that he had asked me to write for him.

He held it up. “This is excellent. Have you ever thought about writing?” he said.

“No. You just asked me to write it all out for you without holding anything back, so I did.” I replied. The rough, rough draft included swear words that would make a truck driver blush, but he said unfiltered, so Shwolf was “The cocksmoking gutter midget” among other things.

He laughed. “If I were you I would keep writing. Get in school, finish your degree, keep working out, stop drinking and come see me in a year. You have a powerful mind, Kash. Do not waste it.” he said.

“Also! You need to cut off all contact with Shwolf, Kash for your own good.” he tilted his head towards me and raised his eyebrows.

“That’s it?” I said. “You can call me anytime you need to talk or make an appointment. Do all of those things I told you to and keep writing.” he said.

“No medications or anything? I’m not crazy?” I asked.

“No, You are not crazy. You just need to learn how to control your emotions. Once you master that I see great things in your future.” he said.

“And get that bat out of your trunk! Not everything deserves a response, Kash.” he said in a stern tone that gave me the chills. “Alcohol is the enemy, stop drinking.”

I sat there for a minute satisfied with my diagnosis. I felt a lot better.

“Well, then Shwolf is the crazy one right?” I asked, looking for reassurance from a professional. “I cannot answer that. I’ve never spoken to him, but if everything you are telling me is true he could benefit from some therapy.” he answered.

Hmm.. Fair enough.

“Uhhh.. Well, before I go can you write me one of those letters so my dog can travel with me for free?” I asked.

He just looked at me. “I’ll have my secretary write one up for you, Kash.” he laughed.

I got up ready to take on the world. “See you in a year!” I said. #nowthatsthefuckingtea


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