Fear of Commitment

Not that kind of commitment. Maybe I should say, fear of being committed. I have a confession...I am selective about what I tell my therapists. Meaning, I tell them just enough. I can't tell them everything. I mean, I think them giving me a free white jacket, with long sleeves, and a big buckle in the back is nice. And then, they'll take you on a ride...I don't know exactly for how long, but you can sleep until they decide to stop driving. Then, you'll even get your own room, and it's completely padded, all white. They cook the food, and make sure you take your meds on time. All of this sounds cool, until you find out that you don't have a key to get out of the room. It's a farm, people think it's funny, but I don't think it is. I don't mind commitment, as long as it's on my own terms.