What’s the matter with me, that I’ve written three posts (here, here, and here) with the title “What’s wrong with me?” over the last seven years?
What’s the matter with me, that one day after I lost and found my wallet, I dropped a New Yorker tote bag with my marriage certificate while I was walking to work in the extreme cold, even though that marriage certificate matters so much to me?
What’s the matter with me, that I was considering titling this post “What would Freud say?”
What’s the matter with me, that I’m explaining losing track of important things by telling myself that I’m so concentrated on not losing my wedding ring (which is too big) that I’m dropping other things?
What’s the matter with me, that I have SO MANY things to keep track of every day?
What’s the matter with me, that I’m sharing only these photos from yesterday?
What’s the matter with me, that I’m losing track of so many things these days but can still hear this song in my head?
What’s the matter with me, that
- I’m sad that Sam Cooke died so young,
- I’m anxious about so many matters in today’s news,
- I tell people in my therapy groups that anxiety about forgetting makes us forget even more, and
- when people ask me “What’s wrong with me?” I answer “nothing.”
If you comment on what you think is the matter with anything, that will matter to me.
What’s the matter with me, that I always end every post with gratitude?
The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally 