Stuck

I am stuck.
I am stuck in such a way that I can only believe there are solutions and the more I try to more it hurts.
And the more violently I try to more violently it will hurt.

And so,
on the news they will say:
A woman who lived 18 years with a contact lens in her left eye.
Incredible
Amazing
Unbelievable.

She though she got the contact out 18 years ago and now they discover, the contact was still in her eye all this time.

And the story will sell.

My contact lens might be stuck in my eye. I havent found the left one in 2 weeks. I was too sleepy to see where it is, in the morning I didnt find it in the little slidey blox it sleeps in.

So, solution doesn't help with that one.


I remember the first time I sat with a psychologist in the same room. I was 6 or 7.
She asked me about my parents' divorce. I told her it was really fine, that it was better than them having to fight all the time. I told her that I see my dad as often as I see my mom. I told her that they insult each other from the different apartment doors because my dad lives in the apartment upstairs that used to belong to his mother who has passed away some time earlier.

I told her that it was really fine and that I didn't need help.
My mother was the one who told me to go to her. My mother though I needed help since she was too busy crying and feeling depressed. I was messed up, I used to lie a lot.

So the psychologist told me that my mom is immoral and that women should keep their husbands and do everything they can not to let them stray.
She told me that it was all my mom's fault.

I might have believed her. I thought it was my mom's fault because mom always seemed evil and dad always seemed like the nicer one. Still, even at the time, I knew she didnt have the right to say that.

I wanted to slap her.
She looked stupid and she wore really horrible looking glasses.
I lied to my mom and told her that she insulted her, me, my dad and the whole family.
And then I lied to the psychologist and told her that my father (since my mom is whore, my father must be a saint) told me never to speak to her again.

And every teacher in the school knew the next day.
The kid of a broken family.
The poor kid.
The messed up kid.

It was fun being scary, though.

Until this day I will continue to hate psychologists because this woman thought she was so smart but she was so impotent in many different, but all funny now, ways.

I am stuck because sometimes I fail to get her out of my head. I want the solution just to prove I can get that invisible contact out!