Wednesday, April 06, 2005
among the ground rules for dealing with me
Okay, so: If you try to proselytize me into your recent enchantment with "internal family systems theory," in which our psychology is supposed to be comprised of a set of complicated familial-like relationships among different aspects of the self--that is, our inner lives as massive-messy-family-reunion, only without any potato salad and taking place entirely in our heads--then you forfeit the right to be surprised if, for a period of at least six months and perhaps as long as a decade, our conversations are punctuated by my asking, apropos of nothing, "Who's your internal daddy?" or by my saying, "Wow, sounds like your internal crazy aunt in the basement is at it again." I'm sorry: it's like I've got this smartmouthed surly adolescent slouched on the sofa behind my cerebellum, and he just won't behave.