I’ve always wanted to go into therapy, not to be analysed but to lie on a couch and talk without being interrupted. I grew up in a household where the dinner table was a constant cacophony of noise, elbowing, arguing, speed eating and random displacement. Finishing a sentence with a verb and without shouting ‘Just shut up for a minute’ was an achievement akin to grand eloquence.
How did such a freewheeling childhood impact on our psyches? Who knows? I’ve just come to the conclusion that keeping sane in my family is best achieved by assuming they’re all mad.
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