Cheap Therapy or Shit Happens, Get Over It
“Shit happens — get over it.” Not the words you expect a professional therapist to say.
We need to rewind.
We need to rewind.
Analyst Gifts >>
My life is in the toilet. I was talking about it to Dave. He interrupted. “Jeez, Mark, we all have problems.” He told me his.
The Suez Canal blockage was affecting supplies in the South London area. That’s why we were smoking some of Dave’s personal supply. None for me till some time never. Lou Reed waits for his man, I wait for Dave.
I began to tell Dave about my problems again when he shushed me with a threat of immediate violence. “Get some therapy,” he said.
“Like I can afford that,” I replied.
But what luck! Dave knew someone who had started their own therapy business, cut-price deals, £10 per half hour.
Even better, I had £10. Don’t leave jackets hanging over chairs in crowded restaurants, easy pickings. Their fault, not mine.
The Suez Canal blockage was affecting supplies in the South London area. That’s why we were smoking some of Dave’s personal supply. None for me till some time never. Lou Reed waits for his man, I wait for Dave.
I began to tell Dave about my problems again when he shushed me with a threat of immediate violence. “Get some therapy,” he said.
“Like I can afford that,” I replied.
But what luck! Dave knew someone who had started their own therapy business, cut-price deals, £10 per half hour.
Even better, I had £10. Don’t leave jackets hanging over chairs in crowded restaurants, easy pickings. Their fault, not mine.
I went to the therapist. It was a rough part of the area, and I live in a rough area, so it was pretty rough. Climbed up several flights of stairs to get to the room. Handwritten sign on the door said “Therapy — £10 Sesions.”
Inside was the therapist and what looked like an old massage table. I wiped a couple of stains off before I laid my head down.
“Tell me about it,” he said.
At last. Someone who would listen to my problems. He closed his eyes to study my words, and I let go. After a whole 15 seconds about my life, I paused for breath.
“And how did that feel?” he said. Man, this guy was good. I let rip in a non-flatulent way for another minute or so. I started to tell him about my problems with girls, and he stopped me. Said Dave had told him I’d never had a girlfriend. “Thinks you’re gay,” he said.
I was shocked by this breach of patient/therapist confidentiality. He said it was OK because he was sworn to Habeas Corpus.
“I’m not gay,” I said, and moved my head to a dry patch.
“Tell me about your mother,” he said, and off I went again. Another 20 seconds at least. “And what do you think about that?” he said, once again nailing the point with his razor-sharp therapy thing.
This continued until 29 minutes had passed. He had a timer on the wall and was checking it closely. I finished an impressive outpouring when he said, “Shit happens, Mark, get over it.”
Inside was the therapist and what looked like an old massage table. I wiped a couple of stains off before I laid my head down.
“Tell me about it,” he said.
At last. Someone who would listen to my problems. He closed his eyes to study my words, and I let go. After a whole 15 seconds about my life, I paused for breath.
“And how did that feel?” he said. Man, this guy was good. I let rip in a non-flatulent way for another minute or so. I started to tell him about my problems with girls, and he stopped me. Said Dave had told him I’d never had a girlfriend. “Thinks you’re gay,” he said.
I was shocked by this breach of patient/therapist confidentiality. He said it was OK because he was sworn to Habeas Corpus.
“I’m not gay,” I said, and moved my head to a dry patch.
“Tell me about your mother,” he said, and off I went again. Another 20 seconds at least. “And what do you think about that?” he said, once again nailing the point with his razor-sharp therapy thing.
This continued until 29 minutes had passed. He had a timer on the wall and was checking it closely. I finished an impressive outpouring when he said, “Shit happens, Mark, get over it.”
That was my first session. Careless jacket-hanging permitting, will be back next week for more of the same.
When I got home, I rang the European Offices for Patient Confidentiality to report the breach of my human rights re the girlfriend thing. “We don’t care about little people,” they said and cut me off.
On the plus side, they’ve reopened the Suez Canal.
When I got home, I rang the European Offices for Patient Confidentiality to report the breach of my human rights re the girlfriend thing. “We don’t care about little people,” they said and cut me off.
On the plus side, they’ve reopened the Suez Canal.