Getting to Know Madeleine, Agoraphobia and Obesity, Part 2
of fear and loneliness. I also have to face the truth that however the seed of her malevolence was planted in me - by my mother, my brother, society, a rapist - in the end, Madeleine is me. Since I am no longer a child, I am responsible for her behavior and her words. And also for my own. So instead of partaking of her poison the next time she offers it - and she will - I think I will offer her a bowl of chicken soup, maybe, with a lot of love and hope and even some forgiveness mixed in. "Hush, Madeleine," I will coo to her, "It's ok. I love you just as you are."
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* Anyone in the NYC area looking for a great therapist, let me know and I'll tell you how to find him.
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