An old student came by; it had been ten years. She said our workplace is a sad one, that many traumatic events have taken place, but that I look the same as ever and seem happy. I changed her life, she said, by convincing her she could do the professional things she did not think she could.
(Teaching is not important, and I am not good at it.)
How to eject the introjected torturer, though. I think of Marilyn Monroe, taking drugs, with so much pressure to perform in the ways desired.
I wonder whether the harsh people I always felt goading me ahead on the paths they chose were actually mere fans.