Disassociation

I don't know how the majority of people cope with life's stresses. Are there actually some who sail right through, without so much as hitting a snag? It is easy to convince myself that many other individuals cope far more adequately than I.

My modus operandi these days is intense disassociation. I know that I'm doing it. I want to stop and face whatever it is that is drawing me to the disassociation games, but instead I find myself on the same old, worn out, unproductive treadmill.

Every day, I think about all that needs to be done (or faced) and I flee into magazines (writing ones - it always seems to make me feel better when I am NOT writing, to read about the process of writing), books or naps. When I sit down to the computer, full of grand intentions of finally expressing what lurks inside, I cannot so much as uncork the bottle. Instead, I have played nearly one thousand games of Spider Solitaire. This makes no sense to me.

There was a time when my disassociation choice was Minesweeper. Years ago, I would play that game for hours on end. As soon as I completed and saw my best time, I would feel compelled to play again. After all, I might beat my best time and secure a new standard. That was always fun because I could type in some grandiose title, like "Wendy the Wickedly Wild Minesweeper Master."

In Spider Solitaire, there isn't really the great thrill of achieving your best score. You can try to minimize the number of cards required to complete all of the sets, but the score still lingers around 1195. I can't understand what drives me to click "Yes," when it asks if I want to play again.

Even the boys have noticed and begun asking why I'm always playing "that stupid game." Sometimes Trevor waxes truly flippant and says, with great irritation, "would you rather push me on the swing outside or play THAT STUPID GAME." Sadly, in my heart, I would rather play the stupid game. I just don't know why. What exactly am I running from?