The ego is a good tool if you understand its uses and limitations.

Image by Tajuana Delamora, Pixy

It all starts with you being a child. You have it really good. People take care of you, they feed you, clothe you, give you hugs, and put your awful drawings on the refrigerator with unrestrained praise. But nature cannot allow you to remain a child forever. It needs to stir the pot. It wants you to get out, take chances, spread your seed, and do stuff. How does nature get you to leave childhood? It casts a spell on you, makes you an adolescent and a little bit crazy. It takes you for a ride on the ego balloon.

When Problems Take Over a Relationship

Image by Brain Snack #177

If you’ve been hurt and a Problem has taken over your relationship, there’s plenty that you can do, other than succumb to the Problem yourself. Just because your boyfriend wants to get stinking drunk every time he goes out, doesn’t mean you have to clean him up when he comes home. If your girlfriend picks fights with everyone, it doesn’t mean you have to make excuses for her. If your husband chooses to gamble away his paycheck, it doesn’t mean he has to spend yours, too. Get out a little, be healthy, let your partner clean up his or her…

Chapter 85

Image by Shanmugamp7, Wikimedia

I was cuffed, arrested, informed of my rights, almost out the door, and on my way to infamy, ignominy, and immortality when I noticed that Rabbi ! had witnessed the whole scene. I was surprised to see him there. Rabbi ! would not normally set foot in Dunkin’ Donuts, for the donuts were not kosher. Not that he would even eat a donut; but, being a rabbi, he could not give the appearance that he would eat one. …

Chapter 84

Image by George Hodan

The day finally came when the Epiphany Café closed its doors for good. The Geeky Guy, following the Spellbinding Fish Fry, forgot all about paying the help and ordering the coffee. The High Street Witch had no interest in doing it for him. She tried to tell him the Lisping Barista was dead, so he wasn’t going to find her, and he could come home; but he wouldn’t believe her. Besides, he may have met his new girlfriend by then. So, without warning, ceremony, or further ado, the Witch locked the doors, lowered the blinds, and ignored every entreaty. …

A Short Story

Photo by Helen Warren, Wikimedia

I knew she’d been feeling depressed, so I didn’t want to fight anymore. I couldn’t help myself, snapping back at her, sometimes; even though it never did any good. She was snappish because of a chemical imbalance, not because of me, so I shouldn’t take it personal all the time. I should just be happy we’re alive and hope things get better. They will get better. I try to have a positive attitude, always.

When I heard about the church picnic, I said let’s go. We hadn’t been to church in a long time because of her depression, but a…

Chapter 83

Let’s be honest with one another, Dear Reader. You’ve probably think by now that I’m the person who killed the Lisping Barista. Not the Weather-Beaten Man in a Cowboy Hat, the Geeky Guy, the High Street Witch, the Leatherman, or the Drug Dealer. Certainly not Kenilworth’s only saint. I am, after all, professorial in appearance, some say past my prime, often dressed in a tweed sport coat with elbow patches. I was present at the portico at the time of the crime. You witnessed the ferocity of my feelings when I was filled with love for her one minute and…

The Reflective Eclectic

Taking the long way through trauma

Image by b0red from Pixabay

Why do trauma victims re-experience their trauma in flashbacks and nightmares? We need some help from Freud to explain.

In Beyond the Pleasure Principle. Freud noted that, in their dreams, flashbacks, and patterns of behavior, trauma victims compulsively repeated their horrible experiences as if they were happening in the present, rather than remembering them as events of the past. If you believe people do whatever is pleasurable, you will not expect this. Freud came up with the death drive to explain.

This is how the death drive works. Death awaits you. Not just death, but dissolution, nothingness, and extinction, the…

Chapter 82

Image from Needpix

“What in tarnation?” said the Weather-Beaten Man in a Cowboy Hat. “Why are you arrestin’ me? You heard him say it was the dude with the elbow patches.”

He was talking about me, of course; yours truly, S. Harry Zade. I’m the dude with the elbow patches.

“I heard no such thing,” said the Ponytailed Cop. “What I heard was you claiming to speak for a ghost, giving information about a crime that only one who committed it could have given.”

“Don’t you get it? That proves the ghost saw it.”

“Don’t you get it? I don’t believe in ghosts.”

Chapter 81

Image from Pigsels

The Ponytailed Cop was halfway through his first reefer in twenty years when the Weather-Beaten Man in a Cowboy Hat came knocking at his patrol car window. Never mind the window was half open to let the distinctive marijuana smoke escape, he knocked anyway on the part where the glass was. The Weather-Beaten Man in a Cowboy Hat didn’t seem to notice the smell, or the window rolled down, or the fact that the bloodshot Ponytailed Cop was giggling his guts out, seven donuts into a baker’s dozen. He may have been too drunk or crazy or too fired up…

Image by Visit Finger Lakes, Wikimedia

A tractor, in granny gear, paced across a hillside vineyard above Keuka Lake, pulling the trailer of a post pounding crew. As it paused for the workers to replace a broken post, the exhaust cap tapped impatiently. But only the tractor seemed impatient. The workers labored methodically, restoring order to the trellis the winter had wrecked. The driver slumped, steering with two fingers. A second man trudged through the mud, following the trailer, repairing the wires. Two more, mounted on a platform above the trailer, swung twelve-pound mauls at the posts as they rode by.

Far below the workers, the…

Keith R Wilson

Mental Health Counselor and Writer

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