*You cannot trust me. I will say it again: You. Cannot. Trust. Me.

While I will be as brutally honest with myself and you, I am an unreliable narrator.

  1. My traumatized brain fails me in so many ways: hyper-vigilance deprives memory. When relaxed and “on my game”, I am an excellent listener with a keen memory. When stimulated, everything goes haywire. (And, shit goes haywire a lot; we’ll get to that.)
  2. As a psychotherapist, I know that I am not immune from what plagues my patients: the long shadows cast by transference and emotions on memory and experiences.
  3. Truth is the intersection of two shared experiences. So, while I may write about my life, if you are an actor in it, you likely will disagree. If there is anything that being in therapeutic relationships has taught me, two people can experience an interaction in completely different ways.

Don’t go all Oprah on my James-Frey ass at some point in the future. Consider yourself warned.


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