I don’t know what I am at him. I want to say angry but that doesn’t feel right.
Here is what I know. When I started seeing Igor I wanted to go home. Back then I knew where home was. I hated where I was. I still wanted a baby even though I knew I would never have one. And I knew I wanted to write and publish a book. Back then there were things that I knew that I wanted.
Now, two and a half years later, I don’t want to move back to Chicago. Now I am okay with being where I am. That may sound like progress to you but to me, as of last week, I started to wonder if it was apathy, surrender, and a general loss of hope. I have no desire to have a child, I am too old and that ship has sailed. And I have absolutely no desire to publish a book. None. And I would like to blame that last one on Igor only all the credit for that lost dream goes to iPad. As soon as I started to read books on iPad I no longer had any desire to publish a book. To want to publish a book in today’s publishing world is like wanting to break into silent film just as the talkies came out. Books, I am afraid, are a dinosaur that is moving into hospice care ( Borders is shutting down stores and when you go into Barnes and Noble and they are selling a device that will soon make their store unnecessary, and Amazon is now selling more electronic books than actual books). As soon as I read my first book on an iPad I just didn’t care about publishing anymore, video had killed the radio star. I am already working in the realm of digital media. I have two blogs and a web page. That is much online presence as I want. I don’t want to publish “books” for Kindle. Does that mean I am old and outdated? Or does it just mean I know what I don’t want?
So, I am feeling completely devoid of a dream and I don’t know how to live this way. I have no desire( except to lose the last ten pounds and a few other items on my to-buy list) but other than that I want nothing and, to be redundant, I don’t like living without an over-riding dream. I don’t like it. Am I making myself clear? Don’t like it.
I was telling Igor all this and explained to him that I sort of blame him for all this( I know it isn’t his fault but I still blame him, it comes with the job. I explained that I was irrationally angry at him. I have no more dreams anymore. I have nothing that is motivating me. Igor asked, “but you still enjoy writing?” My answer: “yes”. “And you enjoy sitting with patients?” I answered, “Yes.” “And you like reading and watching films?” Again my answer was affirmative. ”So you are finding pleasure in your life?” “Uh-huh.” Then Igor said something about how Lacan said publishing is to put one’s work in a garbage can and then he said something about how Winnicott said that all of the joy and the play and enjoyment of writing comes in the writing and not in the publishing. I nodded and continued to feel annoyed. “But I liked wanting. I liked wanting to publish. I am not a now person. I am a future person. And I have no future that I am moving towards. I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.”
Igor then asked me if I had any dreams this week. I didn’t. I am not even dreaming in my sleep. I sat there for a long time trying to remember a dream. I couldn’t remember one. I had little whisps of a dream and when I would try and remember them then they would fly away, like chasing birds. I grew angry that I couldn’t remember a single dream. It seemed related to the theme of the session. “No dreams” I announced, and then I sat in silence.