A few years ago in Dallas, Texas I appeared in a show called "Lyle the Crocodile". No, I wasn't Lyle, but I did play a fireman, an old lady and a crocodile. One of my friends, Holly, played "Loretta the Cat". She was so much fun to hang out with and we used to go drink margaritas together a lot. What I mean is, we used to go drink a lot of margaritas together. A lot.
Anyway, Holly told me one night that she had a problem. She pulled her hair out to relax. Sometimes she pulled out nearly every hair on her eyebrows. She pulled clumps of hair from her scalp. She even pulled eyelashes out. I don't recall ever hearing about people doing this to themselves. So I was surprised yesterday to see a woman on Dr. Phil who does the same thing. The Hollywood actress featured on the show claimed that she couldn't stop pulling her hair out. And her name was Holly. Wait a second.
Holly, my old friend, appeared on Dr. Phil. She's working as an actress and pulling her hair out in Hollywood now. It was a shock to see her on Dr. Phil discussing the same issues she shared with me back in 1996 in Texas. It made me wonder. Do we ever get a new set of issues to work on, or are we doomed to struggle with the same problems until we finally end up on national television talking to Dr. Phil?
I wonder if I'll be on his show someday. I'm a perfect candidate for televised psychological counseling, and the commercial breaks would be very accommodating for my Attention Deficit Disorder. Plus, maybe I'd get a Dr. Phil t-shirt or something. I never got a t-shirt from my last therapist.
Anyway, we're not talking about t-shirts right now. I mean, I am, but I'm supposed to be talking about repeating mistakes. See, I have repeated the same patterns in relationships my entire life. Nobody has ever broken up with me. I am always the one to end it. But I have never once split with someone I didn't still love. When I end a relationship, it always hurts because it doesn't ever really feel over in my heart. I feel like I'm giving up on people.
Nevertheless, I can't bear the idea of being emotionally idle while I wait for someone I care about to come around or catch up with me. Sometimes I feel like an old lady in a casino who plays the slot machines for hours and gives up right before the payout. Then the next person comes along, puts three quarters in the machine and wins $100,000. That's why it is so hard to give up. What if the next pull wins me the jackpot?
I must be very hard to keep up with emotionally. Having no filters and throwing open my heart so quickly often makes me vulnerable to heartache. People who know me well always tell me this is not a flaw. Allegedly, being such an open person is an asset, but I've yet to really see it pay off.
Crunchy told me that many people wear their hearts on their sleeves but that I basically carry my heart around in my bloody palm and shove it in people's faces. Spoken like a true stand-up comic, huh? The other night my friend, The Politician, said, "Toddy, you don't wear your heart on your sleeve. You carry it in front of you on a stick like a pinata". Great. We all know what happens to pinatas.
Sometimes it's enough to make me pull my hair out. Uh-oh.