The Therapeutic Discourse

Darlings, do not panic. Everything is going to be okay. Pretty Lady promises you.

This blanket truth holds up, darlings, whatever the specifics of your agitation; whether you are mourning the results of the Pennsylvania Primary, tracking the Harbingers of the Apocalypse, or predicting the collapse of Western Civilization, whatever you conceive it to be. Indeed, the apparent source of your concern is immaterial; for the purposes of this discussion, we will regard all stressors as equally disturbing to your peace of mind.

The fact is, Pretty Lady more than suspects that, as a society, we Americans are well on our way toward hitting Rock Bottom, if we are not already there. The facts are too well known to require much comment; our government at its highest echelons freely authorizes and encourages torture, in violation of both the Geneva Conventions and basic decency; our currency is headed the way of Argentina's; our citizens are being forced from their homes, denied adequate medical attention, 'educated' in cattle pens and brothels, and our children are ripped from their homes by a precipitous and indifferent State.

Meanwhile, to all appearances, our Presidential elections are being decided on such issues as a candidate's taste in collar jewelry. Truly, can tumbrils and guillotines be far behind?

And yet Pretty Lady tells you: Have no fear. This is a Holy Moment.

For when there is overwhelming toxicity in any body, whether it be public or private, that poison must be Purged. This is a law of Nature, as surely as night follows day. The process of Purging is not an enjoyable one, nor a quick one; it proceeds in slow, painful and recognizable stages. And one of these stages is the Healing Crisis.

This is the moment when symptoms suddenly become much, much worse. This is when the patient folds acutely, and bolts for the lavatory. The fever spikes, the spasms worsen, peristalsis goes haywire. There seems to be no Stable Ground to be found in any reality; the psyche roils in hallucinatory delirium. And George Stephanopolos continues asking impossibly inane questions with a shit-eating smirk upon his face.

As any person who has survived open-heart surgery, anaphylactic shock, or cognitive behavioral therapy will tell you, the Healing Process is not for wimps. One's world literally crumbles, and must be reassembled from the ashes. One cannot build on false foundations; these foundations must be razed before a single solid stone may be erected.

False foundations have their tenacity, however. They are only removed with much Resistance, much Denial, much raging against the dying of the light.

Fear not. Integrity will emerge from this turmoil; the calm, the clearheaded, the competent and sane will eventually prevail. Pain has its integral purpose. All is, and ever shall be, well.