Candle in the Wind

Many years ago, back in my angst-ridden youth, I believed I had an eating disorder because I often consumed an entire box of cookies in an evening at home, alone, waiting for my married boyfriend to call. Usually they were Entenmann's chocolate-chippers. I finally sought the help of a shrink who put my mind at ease by telling me that my eating disorder was child's play compared to the anorexics and bulemics he had treated. Turns out I just had a hearty appetite. He did suggest I break up with the married guy, and for that I paid him handsomely.

These days I know my craziness is mild compared to that of others whose stories show up on the news. Still, it's the only crazy I got and to me, it's crazy enough. For example, when I leave my home to go out for the day or perhaps an evening of relaxation, soon enough I become convinced that I have left a candle burning that will surely be ignited by a curtain blowing in the breeze, thus setting my home aflame and burning it to the ground. In this scenario, my three cats--actually one belongs to my son so please don't lump me in with those crazy "cat people"-- all die. What's crazy about this particular fear is that I have no curtains in my home. And it's winter now and all the windows are closed and thus there are no breezes. Nevertheless, sitting in the symphony, I worry.

I went to a behavioral therapist about this curtain-catching-fire thing, and she told me that when I get these thoughts, I should just tell them I am not interested in having that thought right now. She even wrote it down on a 3" x 5" card for me to keep in my purse, should such a thought arise. I liked her, but I ultimately decided that I could live just as well without her advice.

I could use a cookie right now, but there are none in my house because I finally understood that they are so bad for you that I simply don't buy them anymore. Maybe I should stop buying candles.