[email protected]SENT: Friday, April 4, 2008, 11:04 PM
TO:
[email protected]SUBJECT: Y____ / Friday (NA)
Strange morning. No call from Y____. Considering the progress of our previous session, my hopes had been high for today’s chat. Mystified. But —I am choosing not to overreact. A missed call could be the result of any number of things. Need to stay realistic about this type of case. Don’t want to have more situations like [ redacted ] and [ redacted ]. 4 Still: disappointed. Was beginning to really relish my discourse with Y____ and remain curious about the authenticity of his persona.
NOTES:
Did receive payment of $450 on Tuesday, sent standard mail as (oddly) cash: twenty-two twenty-dollar bills (plus two fives). The most cash I ever received through the USPS! Pretty dangerous, IMO.
Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld
ADDENDUM 5
[Received another two voice mails from Y ____, this time explaining his missed session. Unlike his previous message, he seemed to be speaking off the cuff. Total time of first message: 299 seconds. Total time of second message: 19 seconds.]
CALL 1
“Good evening, Vicky. This is Y____ speaking. First of all, I want to apologize for failing to call you this morning. I did not forget to call, if that’s what you’re thinking. I chose not to call. But this is only because I thought about some of what you’d said in our previous sessions—really, really thought about what you’d said—and I decided that maybe you were more correct than I initially believed. I was watching someone this morning—someone on the TV, one of those variety shows—and it occurred to me that people who don’t talk about themselves are limiting their own potential. They think they’re guarding themselves from some sort of abstract danger, but they’re actually allowing other people to decide who they are and what they’re like. This happened to George Harrison. He was the quiet Beatle. Right? But he was also the Beatle people are most able to turn into whatever inaccurate projection they need, and for whatever purposes they arbitrarily decide. And I’m ( inaudible ) to make that ( inaudible ). Not that I’m comparing myself to a Beatle, of course, but I think you ( inaudible ). I probably am a little like a Beatle, within my own field. So here is my proposal: The next time I call you, there’s not going to be any questions, or at least none from you. I need to talk to you about what has happened to me, and I believe it’s important for you to get a full picture of my life. And, by extension, a portrait of my problems. And if this goes well, and I have every expectation that it will, I believe we could actually meet—face-to-face, as it were—and start talking more directly about these issues. So this is what we will do. Agreed? I will call next week, and you will listen. I will talk and you will not. Now, this doesn’t mean you can’t say ‘hello’ or ask follow-up queries to certain points you won’t understand. I’m not a fascist. However, I’d advise you not to ask any more questions than absolutely necessary, even though I realize that’s your nature. Some of what I tell you will just be impossible to understand, so trying to get your head around my condition will not serve our progress. Second, I don’t want to giveyou some sort of false confidence that you can latently direct our conversation by asking a bunch of subtle, pointed queries. That’s not what we’re going to do. I know every smart person always believes that he or she can control a conversation without making a single declarative statement, and I know that—”
CALL 2
“Your machine cut me off. You should set it to record for a longer amount of time. But what I was saying, basically, is that I know what a smart person would do if placed in the position I’m putting you in. I realize how this must sound. Still, I’m hoping you will resist the temptation to interfere. You will have enough things to deal