my mental health...
... is in the toilet. There isn't much point in trying to explain any of the details, all that matters is that my spring rush just sort of crashed today. I guess I'm rapid cycling (which, by the way, doesn't involve pedaling...), but at least I haven't completely lost my sense of humor.
I went to the last meeting of my disability law seminar tonight -- the class through which I have had the pleasure of working with birdlady. There are only 5 of us in the class, myself included, and my 4 classmates are just lame. That's all I'm going to say. The professor has this gorgeous, warm, liberal, activist, Jewish-mother vibe which promises so much (in terms of comraderie or comfort) but delivers very little and I leave every interaction disappointed. Though, the most endearing thing she's done all semester happened tonight when she was asked what law school she went to. She sort of mumbled "Harvard," and then said, when the class questioned her apologetic tone, "Well... you spend a lot of time convincing people you're not an asshole." Funny.
She's not an ass-hole but she triggers something in me I can't quite explain. There's so much "cool mom" in her demeanor, I just immediately need to be parented when I see her. I suffered from a dramatic lack of parenting as a kid -- especially mothering, and this woman just completely polarizes me into the space of being the unmothered kid, longing for the comfort of that maternal bosom. Obviously, her bosom has come nowhere near me and instead of comforting me when I complain about birdlady, she starts balancing my experience against birdlady's reasons or motivation and it drives me nuts. I want her to give me a big hug and pet my head and tell me she's sorry birdlady's been so mean and maybe offer to make me a sandwich.
But for christ's sake, I'm in law school, not head start. She's not there to nurture me. And really, my woes must seem pretty pale considering that she went to Harvard at the tail end of the "Paper Chase" era when professors seemed to believe dehumanizing and destroying their students was an integral part of a good legal education. Birdlady probably seems to my professor like a walk in the park. Oh well. I'll manage. I'm just weary of parenting myself after all these years. And I can't expect the lovers in my life to also be surrogate mothers. That's just fucked up.
Where does an adult go to find an appropriate mother-figure? I guess I could call my actual mother, but that wouldn't exactly get me what I'm looking for and that's the point. Oh fuck it. I'll just go eat some crappy supper and feel sorry for myself for a little while. Too bad I don't have a television...
I went to the last meeting of my disability law seminar tonight -- the class through which I have had the pleasure of working with birdlady. There are only 5 of us in the class, myself included, and my 4 classmates are just lame. That's all I'm going to say. The professor has this gorgeous, warm, liberal, activist, Jewish-mother vibe which promises so much (in terms of comraderie or comfort) but delivers very little and I leave every interaction disappointed. Though, the most endearing thing she's done all semester happened tonight when she was asked what law school she went to. She sort of mumbled "Harvard," and then said, when the class questioned her apologetic tone, "Well... you spend a lot of time convincing people you're not an asshole." Funny.
She's not an ass-hole but she triggers something in me I can't quite explain. There's so much "cool mom" in her demeanor, I just immediately need to be parented when I see her. I suffered from a dramatic lack of parenting as a kid -- especially mothering, and this woman just completely polarizes me into the space of being the unmothered kid, longing for the comfort of that maternal bosom. Obviously, her bosom has come nowhere near me and instead of comforting me when I complain about birdlady, she starts balancing my experience against birdlady's reasons or motivation and it drives me nuts. I want her to give me a big hug and pet my head and tell me she's sorry birdlady's been so mean and maybe offer to make me a sandwich.
But for christ's sake, I'm in law school, not head start. She's not there to nurture me. And really, my woes must seem pretty pale considering that she went to Harvard at the tail end of the "Paper Chase" era when professors seemed to believe dehumanizing and destroying their students was an integral part of a good legal education. Birdlady probably seems to my professor like a walk in the park. Oh well. I'll manage. I'm just weary of parenting myself after all these years. And I can't expect the lovers in my life to also be surrogate mothers. That's just fucked up.
Where does an adult go to find an appropriate mother-figure? I guess I could call my actual mother, but that wouldn't exactly get me what I'm looking for and that's the point. Oh fuck it. I'll just go eat some crappy supper and feel sorry for myself for a little while. Too bad I don't have a television...
posted by reasonably prudent poet at 9:10 PM
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