Some colleagues and I went to get a drink after work one night, and we got to talking about our personal lives.
We were telling personal stories, discussing who had the craziest family. So this is the story I told:
Me: You don't understand. My family is so crazy that my friends talk about us in therapy.
Colleague 1: What?
Me: I have had several friends tell me that they've brought up the stories I tell about my family when they're with their therapists.
Colleague2: Did they live through these stories?
Me: Nope. They weren't there.
Coll1: This makes no sense...
Me: Here's an example. Back when my siblings and I were kids, one of the classic horror movies came out... I think it was Halloween... anyway, mom said that we were not allowed to see it.
Coll2: That's pretty normal.
Me (cont): Yeah, but I don't know what my mom was thinking, because that was like setting off a starter's pistol for the four of us. Anyway, my sister Bridget saw it first, and, because she as so scared by it, she slept with the light on for a week.
Coll1: Okay, that's happened to most of us.
Me: Well, yes, and no one would have cared, except she shared a bedroom with my other sister, Clare, who complained about it every day.
Coll3: Still nothing unusual...
Me: So, one night, after we all went to bed, my mom snuck into my sisters' bedroom, and in a voice loud enough to wake all of us up said, "Like having the light on would save you!". Mom than spun around, slammed the off switch, and left the room.
Coll2: That... damn....
Me: Mom's hardcore.
Me: This so bothered one of my friends, that she told her therapist about it.
Coll1: Why? That's ...
Me: I'm not sure. She never got into that. I do know that we had an argument a day or two before her therapy session. Maybe she was trying to explain why I am the way I am. I don't know.
Coll2: That's just strange.
Me: Tell me about it.