Lacey Says This...

 

I spent all day in therapy (yeah!? So what?!) this
morning talking about Poo.

I kid you not. Poo.

 

The reason this came up was because my father is
convinced I am insane. We had a brief conversation the other day about my utter
distaste for poo… he said I disliked it so much that I had a serious problem.
Yes…. That problem is poo.

He then told me that next time I see my therapist
Lisa (whom I have seen since my parents got a divorce when I was three) I
should bring this issue up. As I laughed at the old man, he began to get mad.

 

“I’m serious.” He said.

 

I decided to think about my issue… Did I really
have an issue?

I just hate poo.

Everything about it. That’s normal right?

I think its people that LIKE poo that are
abnormal….

 

But then I began to think about my HATE for poo… I
mean down right LOATH.

 

When people talk about it… I start to gag.

I have some co-workers that like to talk about what
their dump looked like… what kind of shape and color… etc…. every time this
comes up I have to force myself to breath and not puke up anything that happens
to be in me. I started to see that normal people can talk about Poo.

 

I can talk about poo… but it just has to be in a
medical/natural way. Dietary reasons… if someone is sick… whatever… everyone
Poops.. I know this… Duh… I read the book.

 

But then I started to see that beyond that… no way.

 

I cant go into public restrooms. I can only pee in
a few places, and even that is hard…. But poo? No way.

I cant even poo in my own apartment if someone else
is there.

 

It just disgusts me.

Poo is the most unappealing thing ever.  It smells… It looks nasty… It’s annoying… its
just gross all around.

 

Paul and I had gone camping once… I had to pee like
a maniac. It was when we first started dating… so I couldn’t bush it being I
had to maintain my Lady-Like attraction… so I went into a porta-potty that was
outside “Neptunes Net” on PCH.

He held my purse and went to the car as I went into
the pits of hell.

That was what it was… HELL.

My worst nightmare in the flesh.

 

I could smell everyones mess…

You open the lid and you can SEE everyones mess…
and I had to PEE on everyones MESS. It was purgatory.

I felt like tiny POO particles (poo particles…. Say
that outloud.) were crawling on me. I wanted to scream.

It took everything in me NOT to puke up the shitty
salad I had just eaten.

 

As I left the bathroom and walked back to the car,
Paul could see the disturbing look on my face.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked me.

 

“I cant talk about it.” I said… literally having to
hold back tears.

 

It was my own personal scene from a horror movie.

 

As I sat and told my therapist about this she sat
there with a smile on her face.

I just kept ranting about my hate for Shit.

I was crewing my nails up as I was talking about it
and twitching my leg nervously. Just talking about it turned my stomach.

 

When I noticed she was still smiling I broke my
concentration and started to laugh. She laughed also.

 

I realized how stupid it sounded when she said…

 

“You really hate poo.”

 

No shit.

 

It pissed me off, because I have never had a
‘Traumatic Poo Experience’. If that were to ever happen, I would probably kill
myself. I could not stem back to what caused this deep rooted issue.

 

She then began to talk about what Poo
psychologically symbolizes.

She told me why she thought I had an issue with
poo… which had NOTHING to do physically with poo at all….

She explained why I feel the way I do
psychologically and how it comes out through my subconscious externalization of
the loath of shit.

 

I sat there floored.

 

It had NOTHING to do with poo…

But was so dead on.

I felt like a psychic had just seen right through
me.

I was as clear as crystal.

It was amazing.

 

And then it made me mad… how the human mind works…

So I have this set of issues in life… and my mind
decides the best way to handle them is to give me a hate of Shit.

Neurosis is so fucking lame.

 

So now I am suppose to feel okay with knowing that
my Poo issue comes from something completely un-poo related… how the FUCK does
that help me? Instead its just going to make it worse… because EVERYTIME I gag
at shit I am going to get super angry knowing I am gagging because of some
fucked up childhood!

 

Mother Fuck.

 

I did not think it was that weird to hate poo.

But then again, I am playing that off… I have a
phobia of poo… not a hate…

 

So I looked at the clock and noticed I had spent 45
minutes…. And a lot of money in my therapists office talking about poo.

 

I finally looked at her for the last 5 minutes and
said

 

“can we PLEASE stop talking about shit!?”

she laughed.

 

And so I changed the subject to how I felt like I
was trapped somewhere in-between being a man and a woman when it comes to
social ways of life, etc… and how this has played a confusing role in my
friendships etc etc…

 

When we ran out of time… which happened quickly
being all I did was rant about how I never fit in…. she just smiled at me.

 

I just HAD to throw something else in there…
something that had NOTHING to do with shit… I could not…

I still CANT…. Believe I stalked about shit for 45
minutes.

 

Therapy… Its amazing.

 

 

In other news… I have been thinking a lot about
love… past relationships… and new ones.

 

I always get trapped in my head at weird times. An
Epiphany will come to me out of nowhere and I will know that I have discovered
a thought or idea that is profound. I just never end up sharing it, and I carry
it around knowing how awesome I am and that no one else gets it….

 

The other day is was this…

 

When a relationship ends… Where does that love go?

I have always believed that you cant just ‘turn it
off’ so to say. You can fall out of love with someone… but when it just ends?
Where does all the love go.

Not to mention… Can you fall out of love with
someone? Or did you just never really love them?

Isn’t love suppose to be eternal?

Isn’t it suppose to be the thing that never dies?

Is it possible for love to fade in and out… for you
to feel it one day and not the next… and if so… is that really love?

 

I never got this… because I always love.

There is a great difference between being IN LOVE
and LOVING. I Love many many many people… But to be IN LOVE with someone is
something much deeper.

But even the people I was in love with I still
love… just not in the same romantic way.

I don’t think I could ever be the person to do
something mean to someone… to break a heart or whatever. At least not now in my
life.

Even when I was a bad person (junkie days) I still
never intentionally hurt someone.

 

I have been intentionally hurt… I have been used
and walked on… I guess I just have a different way of dealing with it.

I feel bad for them… not me. I know they treated me
wrong, and I didn’t treat them bad. I did my part as a person… They are the
ones that have to sleep at night knowing what they did… not me.

And even the people that hurt me horribly… I pray
for. As stupid as that sounds… I send them love and good vibes and hope that
some day they can be happy and healthy.

And I noticed… I am just a lover.

I always have been.

 

“Free love.” And not in some sexual way.

 

And then I looked at someone close to me… and their
experience with love.

How devastating it was.

How the moment they let their guard down and let
someone in… they got stung.

 

I listened to his story about this woman…. This
chick who has now painted how he looks at love and relationships. How her
actions caused wounds that are never fully healed, and should they finally
someday heal they will leave massive scars.

How people can be so cruel…

How they can go from loving you one day, to
shutting you out the next.

How scary it then becomes to love again.

 

And I just wanted to hold him.

 

There is nothing better in life then love. And you
can never truly live until you have love. It’s the best feeling. The strongest
emotion. It has caused some of the most horrific crimes, or cured the most
dilapidated situation. It can cause tears of every kind… and when you are in
it… even the worst things in life are now bearable.

 

It stops hate right in its tracks.

 

And it changes your life and the person you love.

 

I guess I am different from a lot of people in the
fact that I am a healer… my purpose in life is to touch people… help people...
and love people. I could never be a bad person.

But then there is the other group of people… who
just don’t care… I don’t know.

 

But it makes me sick to my stomach that these
people have hurt a person so bad that they are afraid to love.

 

I just wanted to tell him he didn’t deserve that.

That he was amazing… and she should be ashamed.

I can feel the hurt in his eyes… and I can feel the
scared being in him when he begins to get close.

 

And this was about the point that I remembered how
sad the world is…

And how truly evil people can be.

Whether it’s the person that uses, takes advantage of
my kindness, and walks all over me….

To the woman who ripped his heart out,

And everywhere in-between…

 

People just need to breath.

 

Love cant just be Turned off…

Its just these people have been using it the wrong
way….

And that breaks my heart.

 

No one should ever be scared of love….

Its our mission on this earth

to live,

and to love.