I mentioned a few weeks back that I started seeing a new therapist. We’re still in the “getting to know me” stage, so we haven’t begun doing any deep dives into why I’m there and what I’m hoping to get out of our sessions.

A lot of our early discussions have circled around my social life. Or more accurately, my lack of one. This has been a common topic throughout my psychiatric history. I talk about how I’m lonely or don’t feel particularly sociable, and the therapist will suggest ways to break out of that cycle. It usually goes:

THERAPIST: “What are your interests?”

ME: [names number of interests]

THERAPIST: “Well, you should go find activities centered around that interest. Then you’ll meet new people.”

Not particularly helpful advice. It glosses over a lot of the intricacies of mental illness, peer pressure, and social mores. I absolutely love live music, for example. And even though being at a show or concert is a shared experience with everyone there, I can’t stand the crowds or the ability to move freely - to the point that it can severely diminish the experience for me.

What I’m having a difficult time with most is whether or not I want a social life. I haven’t gotten together with anyone outside of my family since mid-December. Part of me is okay with that because I’ve become so inured to it and have a difficult socializing as it is. But another part of me is lonely, and worried that I’ll never hang out with anyone ever again. Or even be able to make a genuine connection with someone.

But back to my therapy session. She’s getting to know me and I mention that I used to be involved with AA. That’s the “in” my other therapists have looked for to get me out of my social doldrums. I stopped going to meetings because the social part was extremely difficult for me. The sitting in circles, finding a sponsor, the staying still and listening to people. All of it was very taxing. And while I got a good deal out of it from a sobriety standpoint, I couldn’t hang.

But instead of steering me towards another activity that would probably end in the same result, my therapist said she understood how that could be difficult for me. I didn’t get any resistance. I wasn’t “whaddabout”-d. Her reaction and guidance was gentle and not the least bit antagonistic. I’ve never had that experience with a therapist before.

This is not to say that the rest of our work together is going to be so smooth. There’s some unpleasant stuff that we haven’t gotten into yet and, frankly, I’m a bit afraid to get into. But I don’t feel like I’m wasting my time at this point, which had been a fear with getting back into therapy. It’s all sunshine and lollipops from here on out, right?

Sing ‘em home, Lesley!

Instead of complaining about not reading as much as I’d like to, I thought I’d share a book that I have read and thoroughly enjoyed. At the time I picked it up, I was a member of the IWW and knee-deep in union work and other causes. I also volunteered at May Day Bookstore over on the West Bank, which allowed me to read lots of stuff during my shift.

Community of Suffering and Struggle: Women, Men, and the Labor Movement in Minneapolis, 1915-1945 by Elizabeth Faue combined two of my favorite interests - labor activism and local history - and turned the way I looked at both of those things on its ear. For decades, the labor movement projected very masculine imagery and overtones. Unionism was represented by musclebound men holding sledgehammers and shovels as if women didn’t work and toil. (or even exist) Faue’s book speaks to this iconography, and the women who tried to make that image more inclusive and representative of the population as a whole.

Women were more than just auxiliaries and bodies, Faue reminds us. They worked the picket lines, fought back against the politicians and bosses, and were often strikers themselves, notably in the textile industry. It’s certainly worth a read if you’re interested.

It’s getting harder and harder to find a photo I want to share for this thing, so I think I’ll skip it this week. I’m kind of meh about my pictures right now. But maybe I’ll feel better about them soon. You’ve seen all of my alleys.

Or, you know, I could gasp! actually go out and take some photos.

m u s i c b r e a k

Margo Guryan - What Can I Give You (1968)

Not really a household name in her heyday. And not someone I’d call a “musician’s musician”, either. Guryan was seemingly just another person in the business. But she was of the business and, thusly, wouldn’t play along with music industry shenanigans. She refused to tour or promote her work, citing the realities that come with being on the road and forced to appeal to everyone.

“[...] I guess I had about enough 'daddy' when I was five, and I just didn't like being told what to do.“

Take care,

-AG