Wednesday, November 1, 2006

my psychiatrist and me

The end of the session is nearing. Dr. Spanky has been up to his usual "tricks"--asking lucyrain to confront "the issues" and reminding her that medicine alone is insufficient in her quest for "better mental health." As Dr. Spanky speaks, lucyrain nods and smiles in a "You're right. I know. You're absolutely right" kind of way.

Dr. Spanky: So, all these stressors you've told me about--writing a textbook, preparing for a conference, dealing with assholes at work--those aren't really the problem. You realize that, don't you? It's all that other stuff that you try to push out of your mind--your grief, your anger, your resentment. That's what you're going to have to face.

lucyrain: [exhales and utters simultaneaously] Yeah.

Dr. Spanky: You're obviously very intelligent and accomplished and driven. You're more than capable of dealing with textbooks, conferences, and assholes.

lucyrain: [bites her lip and squints her eyes in a slight grimace at the compliments]

Dr. Spanky: [holds his eye contact with lucyrain, as he always does]

lucyrain: [holds her eye contact with Dr. Spanky, for about three seconds]

Dr. Spanky: I can feel it.

lucyrain: Feel what?

Dr. Spanky: You giving me the middle finger.

lucyrain: What?! I'm not giving you the middle finger.

Dr. Spanky: Yes, you are.

lucyrain: No, I'm not.

Dr. Spanky: In your mind you are. I can feel it.