Being A Therapist

I really must glance at my pre-session checklist once in awhile. Today I forgot the Facial Crumb Search and wore evidence of potato chips for 2 sessions! Its not a long check list so I always think I will remember:

NOSE CLEAR OF DEBRIS
CAFFEINATED DRINK PRESENT
FACIAL CRUMB SEARCH
ZIPPER UP
FOOD FREE TEETH
CLOCK VISIBLE FROM CHAIR
FIDGET RING ON
LIP GLOSS COLORED INSIDE THE LINES
SHIRT/BLOUSE BUTTONED OK
CARBOHYDRATES WITHIN REACH

In graduate school, to prepare for counseling, we were all required to take the "Therapist Nod" class. There we perfected the nod that indicates to the client we're taking in what they say. Today, I became conscious of my nod for some reason, and thought, "I must look like a bobble-head."

They should sell those: bobble-head therapist dolls. People could buy them, tell the bobble-head their problems or feelings, and every so often give the doll's head a tap to get that reassuring nod. There could even be a model with a remote nod control.

I thought about taking my web cam to work so I could later count my bobbles. Not.

There's a reason why I have a personal rule never to eat an Oreo while I'm working. Of course, today, the ONLY time I've ever broken the rule, I was asked to meet with a walk-in client just as I was chomping on one I'd popped into my mouth whole.

I did what my cats do, and used my tongue like windshield wipers to get the biggest evidence off. Then I met with the person who probably thought I used too much Botox. My face never moved with my mouth because I was hiding my teeth.

After the client left I went to a restroom and discovered not smiling had been the right thing to do. And I'm sure, if I ever break the Oreo Rule again . . .

It happened again today. I was meeting with a client I've seen for almost 4 years now. Since he started therapy we've discussed, almost weekly, the idea that the client is making himself miserable because he sees the whole world the deplorable way he looks at himself. We talked about this from a gazillion angles and with megabytes of metaphors. The client never saw the problem, although he has the capacity for insight. If challenged, he always said he was being very sincere.

Today he came in and and announced, "I read in a psychology book how we often see the world the way we see ourselves. No wonder I'm so miserable!!" This is such a revelation, I think it might change my life. If I'd known this a couple years ago . . . no one ever told me about this."

I paused, to avoid screaming, "What the f ____." Now, I am very happy he sees what he is doing to himself. And I know, when the student is ready, the right teacher appears. Blah, blah, blah. But I have exercised enough patience with this person to thread every needle in the world without my reading glasses.

Take a breath. Validate the client. Congratulate him. Go with the flow. Oooooommmmm.

Sometimes I know I'm counseling at the top of my game; pearls of wisdom spill out of my mouth like an ever flowing fountain. Like today, with Karen. I spit out enough pearls to make it impossible to walk on the floor without slipping. I was astounded at my own pithiness. I was on a roll, practically explaining the meaning of life to my client when I realized, she wasn't listening.

Or, sometimes I'll open the mysteries of the psychological universe to a client and they look at me when I finish saying, "Huh?" So much for my eloquence.

There is sort of a flip side to the above. Whenever a client tells me about something I said that had an impact on them, its usually something I don't remember saying or did not think was important. Ya never know.

I have never fallen asleep during a group or individual counseling session, but I've come close. Once in awhile some combination of food/drink intake, amount of sleep, room temperature, and level of exercise, does all in its power to make me comatose. Or maybe there is a psychotherapist sandman flitting around in the 4th dimension, that enjoys sprinkling counselors with "sleep-sand" and then watching them struggle to stay awake.

I have a few emergency open-eye techniques I use when this situation occurs and I've already had coffee:

MANUAL OXYGENATION: I inhale slowly and hold the breath for about 10 seconds before letting it out. and repeat, and repeat, and . . . you get the idea. I'm attempting to get more oxygen to my brain, or is it brain to my oxygen. If I do it too long, I get dizzy.

MIRACLE EAR MASSAGE: I put my elbow on the arm of my chair and casually raise one hand to an ear. When a client's eyes are averted, there's time for a quick massage along the outside of the ear. This actually makes sense because all, or a lot of, the energy points in the human body can be stimulated by massaging the ear. The ear lobe is especially good for wakefulness. After I sneak in 2 or 3 whole ear rubs, I just lobe it.

CRAZY COUNSELOR TECHNIQUE: I confess to my client or group that I'm very sleepy (which is not about them, of course), get out of my chair and jump up and down a few times (shaken, not stirred). Even depressed people get a kick out of it. This is my last resort technique. It has an effect on the number of referrals that come my way.

It's true. People seeing a therapist repeat themselves to infinity and beyond. I did the same thing when I saw a therapist. I begged him not to get rid of me due to client-content boredom.

People repeat themselves because they're stuck, and think maybe if they talk about the problem enough the therapist will finally earn their fee and say just the right thing to bring about change. Well, that does happen, with the same frequency as the 17 year cicadas. I've got 9 more years to go on my cycle before I again give birth to change with my psycho-buzzing.

The best thing I found about going to a therapist was that someone actually listened to me for a whole 50 minute hour. The being-heard experience is so wonderful we will pay for it week after week, even if we have to repeat ourselves.

Of course therapists get grouchy, like today. I'm behind on laundry. It took me 20 minutes to find something to wear this morning. All 3 of my cats barfed before I left for work. Sort of cleaned that up. I stopped at Dunkin Donuts for a bagel and coffee. No, I didn't spill anything, but my car wouldn't start. Got a jump, got the problem fixed, and came in late to work. The client I had rushed back to the office for had left a message saying she wouldn't be coming in. I'd forgotten my lunch at home. Had a gritty snack bar and some roasted almonds.

Finally, a client walks in, and tells me how crappy her day has been. OK, her day had been crappy for several reasons, BUT SO HAD MINE! So, I put on the "role" of therapist, which means I still do good work, but my sense of compassion has taken the rest of the day off. This doesn't happen often. If it did, I would go back to basket-weaving. But on days like today, I act as if its "not about me", even though it feels like its "ALL about me."