my analyst told me

Well, I know I'm not crazy, but it never hurts to be sure. I had my first session in five years with a clinician at the University Counseling Services to see if he could help sort out the problems I was having prioritizing and focusing on the tasks at hand. I didn't really have any expectation, and I almost didn't make the appointment. Life was so hectic a couple weeks ago, I thought I had better seek out some kind of support. My normal "analysts" (a/k/a my pastors) are currently distracted and, for my intents, out of commission what with them being pregnant and overloaded trying to run a whole church and all. So I decided to give secular assistance a try once again.

"My analyst told me
That I was right out of my head
But I said dear doctor
I think that it's you instead
Because I have got a thing
That's unique and new
To prove it I'll have
The last laugh on you
'Cause instead of one head
I got two
And you know two heads are better than one."
- Joni Mitchell, "Twisted"

Kidding. My analyst told me nothing of the sort. It's the first song that popped into my head though. My analyst did however tell me, in so many words that I was a lazy, arrogant, spoiled brat with an attitude problem. Well... at least, that's what I took from it. I laid out the convergence of assignments that I had due in my classes last week and explained how I waited until nearly the last minute to buckle down and actually execute what I needed to do. His suggestion was that my problem was not with the assignments themselves, but with my attitude toward them.

After one hour of mostly me talking, the calmly yet succinctly delivered damning verdict left my mouth slightly agape. I wanted to refute the claim and do "damage control", but he was just right. He summarized back to me that I didn't really feel it was my job to take care of these assignments. Therefore it feels like I'm taking my time to do them as if it is for the professor's benefit and not my own. Hence my angsty unwillingness. Hence my strong aversion. Hence my presence inside the office of a psychoanalyst. Because I'm lazy. (I drew the additional arrogant spoiled brat conclusion myself.)

I neglected to admit that I think the guy's right. I don't like accepting any put-upon responsibility. I like to opt-in, so that I feel like I have the option to opt right back out if it gets rough. I don't like to commit to things and be shackled to the site until it's properly seen through. I don't want to be on the hook for something's success or failure. Sometimes I'm not even my brother's keeper. "It's not my job" might as well be my mantra. I'd rather flit back and forth to whatever takes my fancy, nibble on it as if it were a buffet item and toss back whatever displeases me. (I'm starting to feel mighty proud of my spoiled brat assessment now.)

Perhaps I have quietly become a slave to my own whim. This is such that in order to gain freedom from this, I would have to surrender to self-discipline and self-control. I'll bet you there's a paradox somewhere in there wrapped up in an enigma. So in an attempt to make the best of what I've been apprised of, I've got to face up to and really ask God to help me wrap my head around this. It's frightening, this concept of embracing responsibility. What if it really is my job?