When I review the reasons why I am the way I am, I have to blame my mother.
You see, I had a seizure when I was eleven. I wasn’t allowed to sleep over anyone’s house. (Oh no!) That’s about it. They thought it might have been Lyme, but really they didn’t have a clue what happened. Who knows.
This is when my mother turned away from modern medicine, and towards a “doctor” who prescribed “remedies.” The fact that she actually believed in this enough to put it in her son’s body is bizarre enough. There was also the fact that it seemed to work.
Now whenever she’s feeling the slightest bit weird, she goes to her doctor and gets a remedy. I never really liked this woman, who seemed to show me exactly what I would have to do if I preyed on my mother’s sympathies. I disliked knowing this about my mother, that she could be taken advantage of.
I was talking to her on the phone today and she passed on this bit of news. You see, after my dog Sophie passed away from a tumor in her lungs (R.I.P. Sophie), my parents bought a new dog and named her Rosie. She’s a delightful golden retriever. See?
Quite a traumatic experience happened to the poor girl a few months ago. My mother and her passed a larger dog on the street, and when the dogs played, the other dog pinned Rosie to the ground. This event really bothered her. It also bothered my mother. Rosie seemed depressed.
Reacting to these events, my parents brought Rosie to a DOG THERAPIST. YES THAT’S RIGHT. Never would they even broach the subject of me getting therapy, but the dog gets therapy. Wow. Wow.
Today, my mom upped the ante. She took the dog to her naturopath and had Rosie prescribed a remedy. According to this woman, the remedy is for “Those Who Have Suffered a Severe Fright.” Good lord.
I can’t believe that this person is my mother. I know she’s premenopausal and crazy and she’s my mother, but come on.
His new album drops in March.