A Conversation with My Therapist 1

I suggested to my therapist that, rather than being agoraphobic, maybe I was just a misanthrope.

                ‘Are you?’ She asked.

                ‘Probably not,’ I said, ‘Maybe I’m a misanthropist hippy.’

                ‘I don’t… you’ll have to explain that one,’ she said.

                ‘Well,’ I sighed, ‘I love humanity. I love the beauty and invention it’s capable of. It’s compassion and the love it can express.’

                ‘But…?’

                I struggled for a moment, squirming as I tried to express myself without coming across as a total psychopath, ‘I don’t like people. Plural.’

                ‘The plural is important?’

                ‘Very,’ I said.

                ‘But individuals are okay?’

                ‘Yes, of course.  I think it’s more to do with tribalism and the herd mentality. All of that goodness goes out of the window.’

                ‘So outside represents…’

                ‘The domain of the herd, I suppose.’

                ‘I see,’ she said and wrote some notes onto her A4 pad.

                ‘It’s not like I’m immune to it myself,’ I said, alarmed at the notetaking and desperate to try and justify my comment, ‘I’m not claiming any ‘betterness’ or superiority,’

‘What do you mean?’    

‘Well, I was part of a herd.  I left it behind when I left Sheffield. I lost the comfort and strength of that.’

‘How long ago did you leave?’

I smiled, ‘About twenty years.’

She nodded, ‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘that’s a problem.’

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