When you meet with me, you and I are not alone. We share the psychotherapy session with an ordinary, unobtrusive, but tyrannical object. A clock.
My relationship with the clock is a troubled one. Sometimes it’s my savior, my teammate, my partner, other times it’s my rival. It’s a valuable tool and a necessary evil. It’s the symbol of all I hate, but it, of course, doesn’t have any feelings about me. It just ticks steadily, no matter how I feel. Continue reading →