the riptide of psychology

i look at my ever growing

library

of psychological books.

studies

of Freud, of Jung.

of the DSM.

i immersed myself in

personality disorders

to the point

of becoming

crazy myself.

seeing every twist

of someone's mouth

as a sign,

every blink,

or gesture as meaningful.

every word,

or sigh, or rolling

of the eye,

had a whole life behind it.

the Id, the Ego.

the Shadow self.

everyone seemed narcissistic

at one point.

i slept with it, ate with it.

walked around

with it.

i could rattle off a diagnosis

in no time.

the weight almost unbearable.

so much

that i nearly drowned.

doing the opposite of why

i started out

in the first place.