Shrink, Psychiatrist, Psychoanalyst, Psychologist, Counselor, Therapist, Head Dr…whatever you chose to call it, I have my first appointment with one tomorrow.
As an avid fan of shows like In Treatment and The Sopranos (if you’re a fan you know how/why I reference this show) I have a predetermined idea of what the “session” is going to be like. But what has been keeping me awake at night (for the sake of this particular blog, let’s pretend I actually sleep at night) is the unknown. A number of questions and scenarios have gone through my mind.
Will I see someone I know in the waiting room or working there? Will I walk in and swallow my tongue, unable to answer even the simplest questions. Example: What is your name?
What if she asks me to tell her about myself? What if she asks me to tell her what I expect to get from the sessions? As if that is even a question. Can I expect to “get” a fresh start with a brain that fires on all cylinders, at any given point in time? Or at least a brain that allows/enjoys rest? Would those answers be too forward or unrealistic?
What if she expects me to do all the talking? And worse what if I do? Rambling about like a freshly excommunicated monk. Who knows what I could say! I couldn’t possibly be held accountable for the first session if that scenario is correct, right?
Since I am much better at writing than speaking; I actually thought of just sitting down and typing out a little “synopsis” if you will, of my life. Highlighting the difficult years and the things I admittedly still struggle with daily, and delving into the deeper darker fears and secrets as the list goes further. Relating them all to certain areas in my daily life that I would like to better understand, cope and enjoy. I was actually very excited about the thought of this.
What a relief to just walk in and hand her a paper(s) with basically all she needed to know wrapped in a nice neat little Calibri size 14 font bow!
I would basically be taking her job and making it much easier. Essentially I would be writing my own psychoanalytic biography, in hopes of reaching a common goal with my psychiatrist; mental health elation.
I sat down organizing my thoughts in chronological order. I thought about where to start. A quick rundown of my current family status:
Marriage: trials and errors; leading to painful indiscretions from the past and how to let go and move on completely.
Children: descriptions of my lovely children and ways I would love to improve as their mother. Parental: obvious “father” issues as well as any lingering defiance from my teenage years, and how to officially release the hold my forcibly removed father (of 8+ years) still has over my every day thought process.
Siblings: how to improve my relationship w/ my brother.
Fears: Death, punishment, Clowns; the last of which I am currently trying to conquer on my own (subjecting myself to photos of various clowns…but that’s a blog for another day) Rejection: how to learn to live with rejection and accept it as it is.
Depression: learn how to recognize the signs of severe onset depression in the beginning so that; Suicidal tendencies wont escalate into continuous thoughts of ultimate relief. And just continue to roll back time from this point on.
I was so psyched by this point I was ready to go to the dr, right then! Then my mind, as it often does, took it to the next level.
It imagined my appointment, down to how the building/office would look like and even the Dr. herself. I watched as I put on my best smile and shook her hand and as she began to ask me the questions I feared and dreaded I spoke up and handed over my own psychoanalytical biography; as if it were my thesis conclusively proving or disproving evolution.
I fidgeted endlessly watching as the fictitious Dr. sat reading page after page, my heart pounding in my chest, waiting for some sign, anything at all from her. She finally finished the last page and swallowed as much air as her lungs would let her take in and she said:
“Excuse me a moment, I need to take a phone call.”
Wait!!! What?!?!?! Whoa…Whoa…Whoa…….WHAT?!?!?
I was stunned…completely shocked. I managed to turn around in my chair to see her running down the long hall I had just traveled to make it into her office; and she was yelling:
“Don’t call us! We’ll call you!”
Despite my insistent disagreeing; my mind thinks it’s a comedian.
So needless to say, I skipped writing the thesis of a lifetime and I am just going to “wing” it tomorrow. Let’s hope for the best, after all, what’s the worst that could happen?
Answer from my head: She could be my father dressed as a clown…..
Oh crap, I never even thought of that one!
HAHA!
Talk soon : Peace, Love, and Mental Health Elation to all
Sara
2 comments:
As a counselor, I can assure you, it will be fine! She will ask you questions like "what do you hope to gain from these sessions?" But, your answers so far are on the mark. What's funny is that you will end up talking a lot and wondering how in the world she made you do that. If she's good. :)
Elysia
Well then...let's hope she is as good as you ;)
Thanks Elysia
Post a Comment