Ok, I'm posting today as part of my renewed committment to post more regularly. I think that I really do have something to say most days, although it may not be anything especially profound. But I think there's value in writing regularly, and I do keep a journal, but this seems like it's helpful too. I tend to think of blogging and journaling as a way to sort of communicate my hopes and dreams and frustrations and joys to the universe. And so to that end, here's the story of my visit to a new therapist:
Yesterday, I saw a new therapist for the first time. It didn't go especially well, and I feel not very optimistic about the whole thing. D.C. says that I should have asked her if she knew Virginia Woolf. And maybe that's a good way to go. Maybe the therapist that understands Woolf will understand me. Now that I've typed that, the full ramifications of that statement are starting to hit me. I mean, we all know what kind of end VW met. And still, I have to admit that reading VW is somehow satisfying on this intimate level; it's the sense that here's someone who really understands how it feels to be me. (Hey, do we all remember the Tom Petty song about "You don't know how it feels to be me"?) But in all seriousness, this new therapist didn't seem to get me. And at the end of the session, she told me that she wasn't sure she really understood what was going on with me and, thus, wasn't sure she could help me. This is pretty discouraging.
But the best (or at least the funniest) part of this whole thing was when she suggested the possibility that Attention Deficit Disorder is at the root of all my emotional problems. Seriously, I think I have whatever is the opposite of ADD. And as I replay this scene, which becomes increasinly like a bad SNL skit with each successive replay, I see her saying "Maybe you have ADD." And then I say something like, "Yeah, right. That's why I finished my dissertation. That's why I have a PhD. That's why I'm the resident expert on young adult fantasy. It's because I have ADD and can't concentrate. Right. People with ADD finish PhDs" I should add that I don't take the whole I'm-a-PhD thing very seriously. As is evidenced by the neon pink name plate on my desk that reads "Drennan, PhD," but it's bright pink, which says a lot about me. And my mom sent it to me, which says that she "gets" me, even if new therapist doesn't. Carina says I should trade in the new therapist for a new model. I think I should just take enough pills that I feel better. OK, that was tongue-in-cheek, but only kinda.
Hey, I'm listening to Johnny Cash. And it strikes me that he's rather like VW. I mean, I love the song "Sunday Morning Coming Down." There's something so true about it, so authentic. And I totally think that VW would understand about Johnny Cash. And hey, wouldn't they both be brilliant at dinner parties? When Cort and I were in college, we used to play the Desert Island game, but can't the Dinner Party game be a grown up version of the same thing? I mean, instead of "Would you rather be stuck on a desert island with Mike Piazza or Eric Karros?" it's now about "Who would you invite to the perfect dinner party?" And clearly, I want Cash and Woolf. Which probably just means that I'm looking for people I can sit around and be all melancholy with. Oh, and I'd throw Salman Rushdie in for good measure. Now I've completely diverged from the stated focus of this post. But really, planning fantasy dinner parties is much more interested than incompetent therapists.
a president, a King
13 years ago
3 comments:
Your anonymous periodic reader/poster applauds the idea of more regular postings.
No need for the rocks in the pockets yet. You know, you could actually invite Kris Kristofferson to your party to chat Sunday Morning Coming Down. Ah, the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad. (But for dessert, I'm having a pastisse (Pernod with sparkling water) instead.) (Sorry, 2 beers and 3 pastisses talking.)
(Yeah, post academics tend to use a lot of hypens and parentheses when typing and drinking.)
The shrink doesn't sound like a good fit. I wonder what happened to make her think ADD? Cover a lot of subjects in the session? Perhaps that's her training talking. I can see a professor saying, "when in doubt, call it ADD and prescribe ritalin and haldol" Remember that in all disciplines there are a few people who are really good at it, and 90% of the others are just passing and tend to miss the finer points. That was as true in grad school as it was in elementary school, and sadly, true of med school.
Wow, Haldol. That's the one to take if you really want to focus for cramming all night.
From what little I know of you, (though I'll admit I know you not just from your blog) it seems what you are going through is fairly normal. I don't know about you, but many of the women who have come and gone through my life have had similar experiences. Do you feel like your body isn't your own, or that your hands are too big for you? Or else, have you ever thought you were in charge of some big corporate entity that you weren't actully in charge of? If you answer yes to any of these, I'd be more concerned, but there would be specific answers for you.
The journals are very pretty, BTW and why no recent pictures of yourself?
Merry Christmas, Drennan! "The Essential Johnny Cash" collection is outstanding. I belt him out at the top of my lungs w/the kids. I love watching Clare's eyes as she impishly sings, "I shot a man in Reno just to waaatch him die!" I even play a number of his songs on the guitar.
Yeah, ADD? That's an odd one. Academe is, in general, more congenial for mildly autistic adults (talk about extreme focusing ability!) than ADD. Maybe the therapist read the recent article about a couple of activists who view ADHD as an unheralded epidemic among women. I saw the headlines on Yahoo! a few weeks back.
Forensic Literary Investigative question: Would VW drive a VW?
Interesting posts. I randomly came across your blog and I must say it's been interesting so far.
I've been giving thought to the idea of seeing a therapist, but I always cower away from it eventually. How do they make you feel normally?
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