You seriously didn't cry at the German Shepherd thing, Ivy? Even when he got to this part:
But he has that very content, secure old-dog look of a creature that's gotten a lot of affection from consistent, kind people. He looks like he's never known anything other than the kind of life a dog loves.
Shoot, that made me tear up again just now! Maybe the animal abuse thing is how you make an NT cry. We like them more than we like people, usually.
Is that the kind of write-up that you were looking for, though? What Martoon did? (He was clever with that one--slipped it right in, as though he was just replying to whatever. Sneeeeaky.)
Exactly. I didn't see it coming. If I know someone is trying to make me cry then it just seems manipulative. The most brilliant crafters of pathos can conceal their intent to move.
I'm the same way. The only person that has ever really made me cry is my father. I was coming down from ecstasy (a day later, I know, weird). We got into an argument over something stupid and it quickly turned into a maelstrom of feelings of anger and resentment for all the years he subtly neglected his kids and wife in favor of his "duties and responsibilities." I told him I didn't love him and he just said "well I can't accept what you're telling me." Fucking crushed me that I still couldn't break through his wall.
Last edited by ThatsWhatHeSaid; 03-20-2008 at 04:04 PM.
You know that CD you made me with Regina Spektor's Fidelity on it? Well each time we get in the car all three of my children beg me to please put Ms. Ivy's song on and then they all sing in unison with Regina. It's so unbelievably sweet.
A shrink I've been going to has been encouraging me to do things to develop my expressive, feeling side (after telling him about that kind of sterile, emotion-craving void in my mind). A while back, when dealing with something difficult, I wrote a short, vaguely poem-like thing, and showed it to him (it wasn't exactly a poem, and it was pretty weak). But he got all excited, asking if he could show it to colleagues, etc. He then got on this mission of some kind of trying to get me to write poetry. I explained to him that it just isn't my thing. He kept after it the next couple times I saw him, insisting that I'm a poet (I don't think therapists are supposed to work like that, and I'm not sure why he was so invested in this). He eventually gave up and let it go.
So yesterday I saw him, and I mentioned the amusing "Make Ivy cry" thread, and people's (thus far unsuccessful) attempts to elicit tears from Ivy. And guess what he suggested?
(Don't worry, Ivy. I wouldn't do that to you.)
I'm not a procrastinator. I'm a long-term planner.