Transcript of Today’s Session:

KTC: Welcome back, America. You look… rattled.

America: I read three headlines in a row, Doc. Without clicking away.

KTC: Brave.

America: One of them was about the climate. One was about race. One had pronouns in the byline. Doc, I think I accidentally… woke up.

KTC: Let’s breathe through that.

America: I felt things, Klaus. I noticed patterns. I started questioning my narratives. I nearly made a donation. What the hell is happening to me?

KTC: Sounds like awareness.

America: Awareness is for people with yoga mats and trauma podcasts. I don’t want to become one of those countries that cries during documentaries.

KTC: And what would be wrong with that?

America: It’s exhausting. You know what happens when I get too woke? I start seeing injustice everywhere. In schools, in prisons, in my own anthem. I made it halfway through “The Star-Spangled Banner” and whispered, “Oh no.”

KTC: What did you see?

America: Just…all the screaming. The bombs. The nationalism. I started humming “Imagine” and then screamed into a flag pillow.

KTC: You’re confronting uncomfortable truths. That’s a good thing.

America: No, Doc. It’s a woke trap. You wake up, and suddenly you’re morally obligated to care. All. The. Time. It never ends! Recycling, checking your privilege, not laughing at old sitcoms—DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY SITCOMS I HAVE TO REEVALUATE?

KTC: Is that why you’re wearing that shirt?

America: “Make America Slightly Sleepy Again.” Yeah. It’s merch from my new brand—Conscious-ish.

KTC: Conscious-ish?

America: Just enough awareness to clap at the right parts of the Oscars, but not so much that I cancel myself before brunch.

KTC: So you prefer being… half asleep?

America: Absolutely. That’s my sweet spot. It’s cozy. I don’t know what all the terms mean, but I nod supportively. I repost infographics with nice fonts. I shop at Target ethically, but still get the meat sweats.

KTC: Isn’t that a form of performative morality?

America: Of course it is. But it comes with free tote bags and plausible deniability.

KTC: What are you afraid will happen if you fully wake up?

America: I’ll have to change everything. My laws. My habits. My mascots. I’ll have to start calling Thanksgiving “trauma dinner” and mean it.

KTC: So instead, you hit snooze?

America: I don’t just hit snooze. I built a whole lifestyle around it. Mindful ignorance. I curate my crises. I care selectively. It’s like being at a dinner party where everyone’s sobbing but I’ve got noise-canceling AirPods.

KTC: That sounds deeply avoidant.

America: It’s called self-care, Doc. Also: I’m tired. Empathy burns calories. Awareness gives me hives. If I fully wake up, who’s going to run the country?

KTC: You are.

America: (long pause) Dammit.

KTC: What if you just stayed present for a few minutes a day?

America: I tried that. It ended with me googling “What is genocide?” and crying into a Costco pie.

KTC: Still, some part of you came here today. A part that wants to do the work.

America: Maybe. But can we just call it “gentle noticing” and not “wokeness”? Wokeness sounds like I joined a cult that makes me compost my beliefs.

KTC: “Gentle noticing” it is—for now.

America: (sighs) Fine. But I’m keeping my flag pillow.

KTC: Good day, America.

America: Depends on your definition of “good.”

Final Notes:

Patient shows clear signs of identity fatigue and awakening dread. Refuses full consciousness in favor of curated awareness. Uses humor, branding, and selective empathy to delay confrontation with systemic truths. Slight crack forming in facade—recommend daily reality checks and monitored TikTok exposure.

Personal Note:
Claudia—please replace office diffuser scent. Patient claims “woke lavender” made him cry into his bald eagle mug.