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Trying to move on from George

It's struck me how similar a psychologist-to-patient relationship is to a romantic relationship because right now, I'm trying to "get over" George, (not his real name) and finding it really, really hard.

George and I "worked" together for 3 years and became really good friends over all those psychology sessions. I shared my deepest secrets, biggest fears and most treasured hopes and dreams with George. We'd "unpacked" so many things...every time I'd gotten fired from work, all my relationships, my worries, my triumphs...I guess when you spend that much time getting to know someone - there's bound to be a relationship there. I shared my hopes and fears, and he ended up sharing his life, too. He loved yoga. He had a partner and she had a 12 year old son who didn't approve of George and was a little too sarcastic for his liking. George also had an office bully and related to my struggles because he knew what it was like.

We became friends, really.

I would always look forward to our appointments and usually leave them with my head held a little higher. George would understand me, listen to me, challenge me and helped me to grow.

'Breaking up' earlier this year was unexpected. It was hard, but now that I look back on it, it was necessary. George wanted to 'pull back' from the close friendship we'd built, recognising we'd crossed a line somewhere there. He wanted to restore the professionalism into our sessions...no more Monty Python jokes, cheeky banter, laughter and tears...and I wasn't ready for the HUGE hole that left. I suspect "George" was going through some really hard things of his own because reading over my blog of our last appointment together just broke my heart all over again. I had conveniently forgotten how hard George had been on me that day. How brash, sarcastic and rough. He's not like that. I think he was acting out of his own hurt, his own pain from things in his life I didn't know about.

In trying so hard to restore the professionalism, George had driven me away by firing upon me at close contact when I was already bruised and broken.

That's not something he or I can come back from.

When I left his office that day, I almost killed myself as a result of his overly harsh treatment. That's a dangerous situation to be in. I swore to never go to an appointment with him again and I've stuck to that. What's hurt is that he hasn't attempted to make one. No "are you ok?" text that afternoon. No follow up email. Did he even care that I almost died because of how harshly he'd pushed me when I was vulnerable? We'd both decided that day to part ways.

Strange.

It hurt.

Unfortunately, as well as having his own offices in Fremantle, George has kept his job working in the public psych rooms connected to the Hospital in the city...so a few months after we had 'broken up', I was waiting to meet with the new psych I had been paired up with on the system - a wiry Chinese Doctor who spoke quickly and strongly pushed medication as a 'fix it all' cure to depression - when I looked up to see the office door opening and noticed George standing there.

My heart broke seeing his familiar face.

"Michelle?" he called.

A girl sitting behind me nodded and rose to meet him. He held the door wider so she could slip past. He met my gaze and waved. I smiled and rolled my eyes - a habit I fell naturally into when I saw George's face.

The door closed behind them and I felt like my past had slipped away with them.

It was like watching an ex boyfriend put his arm around a new love.

It was so painful.

Dr Hu opened the door moments later to let me into his office down the hall from George's one. This psych was too set on medication. He just wanted to throw tablets at me and not talk about what was going in my life. I'm not a medical experiment, though - I'm a living, breathing, person. We didn't meet eye-to-eye and I hated all the medications he had me on. I couldn't think.

Dr Hu got replaced with a new psych in the same city office - "Don" (actual name, lol), who was very nice but seemed nervous and shy - so much so that I found myself worrying about him and not wanting to share any problems with him.

Don got replaced with Kim - who was too happy. Too eager to say things like "Cheer up" "Be grateful for what you HAVE not what you don't have" and seeming to paper over my pain with frustrating inspirational quotes. I felt almost...attacked...by her overly happy ways. I felt like she was being happy AT me. I hated it.

So I moved onto another psych.

This time, I tried a PRIVATE psychologist who worked in an office in East Perth. (In private offices, I was less likely to run into George, right?)

This psych reminded me of the Blonde lady who often plays a wise-cracking, no-nonsence woman in so many Hollywood movies/sitcoms. I can't remember her name. When I saw this lady, she wanted me to read "the Happiness guide" and take notes (she gave me both a copy of the book and little notebook with a black pen). This psych seemed nice...but 20 minutes into our session and she confessed her Uncle had recently passed away and that she was really shaken up by it. Long story short, I spent my very expensive hour counselling her on how best to get through her grief over her Uncle's passing.

I couldn't keep doing that, so I had to move on again to another psych.

My appointment was this Monday. It was set for noon and I was anxious about what to expect.

I warned myself as I travelled to the appointment - you are the one who needs help and support here, JD - don't counsel the psychologist.

This was ANOTHER private psychologist but praise God, this session was being paid for by work. Work offered 4 free counselling sessions for employers who were struggling and because I feel most of the time like I'm adrift in a huge storm, 4 free sessions with a fancy psychologist in Mt Lawley sounded just fine to me.

The offices were really pretty, set on a quiet street off the main cafe strip. The building was divided into two reception areas and my psych worked upstairs. I can't remember her name so we'll go with "Francesca".

I waited in the fancy reception area, filled out a "I'm new here" form while leaning with the accompanying clipboard at an unsteady angle, wondering if I'd dressed ok. Did I look like a crazy person in my black dress, cardigan and black flats? Did psychologists judge you instantly on what you wore?

What judgment would this new Psych make of me?

A few minutes later and Francesca appeared.

She was about my height but 30kgs lighter. Maybe more. She was basically skin and bone. Fran wore black business slacks which hugged her skinny legs and a mustard yellow long-sleeved blouse with frills on the edges. She looked Italian with dark eyes and dark hair pulled into a low bun. She wasn't wearing any makeup as far as I could tell. Francesca was neither pretty or ugly - just plain.

Her office was lovely. Bright, white walls with little framed pictures in different "soothing" colours, big windows letting in natural light and quite a few indoor plants which brought a lovely feel to her office. The carpet was soft, thick and beige. Expensive. There were a few packing boxes in the corners.

"Your office is lovely" I ventured.

She laughed "It's nice, hey? We're just moving in...it's a new building and we're all still figuring out where everything goes...I had to go looking for where to plug in the kettle this morning. Hahaha"

There was a small sofa against the wall and 2 single chairs facing each other. The furniture looked plush and new. Such a difference in this office to the public offices I so often saw "George" in, with plastic chairs, a musty 'old' smell in the air and a bunched up rug in the corner. This office had a hint of 'new paint' smell in the air and the light grey furniture was stain-free and looked comfortable.

Fran directed me to the sofa. She sat on an armchair facing me.

"Did you want me to tell you about myself or do you just want to go for it?" She asked.

Remembering my last appointment with a psych where I did the counselling, I answered "I'd like to just get started if that's ok?"

"It's just that some patients prefer to know my background so they can weigh up whether they trust me or not...I can tell you my degrees in psychology...or about my..."

"Uh, no thank you" I interrupted "I only have an hour with you. I'm sure you're more than qualified so I'd like to just get into it"

Janet - 1
Psych - 0

"Sure" she smiled and nodded, moving in her seat to fold a leg beneath her; adopting a pose that seemed to convey the message "Yep...we're just two girlfriends chatting, no biggie"

I liked that.

"What brings you to our office today, Janet?" she asked.

Her face was open and friendly. I kept trying to decide whether Francesca was attractive or not. I compared my huge girth to her slight frame and felt even more overweight as we were about the same height but then I was about 10 times wider than she was.

Focus, JD.

But now that I was here in her office, I didn't know where to start.

What DID I want to see her about?

About being bullied at work by stupid "Bruce"?
About not coping with the trauma 2 suicide attempts in the one year had brought?
How I felt so uncomfortable in my body, not really knowing what to do in it anymore?

What?

"I uh..." tears were pouring and this surprised me "I've had a pretty hard time of late" I mumbled, wiping tears away and wondering how this was going to go if I fell apart within the first few minutes of starting the session.

Francesca got up, picked up a pretty tissue box from the shiny black desk against the other wall and pushed it gently towards me on the sofa before returning to her chair and resuming her "No worries, I'm your mate" pose in it.

"Do you have a good support system in place?" she asked

I found this a strange question but at least it lead me somewhere.

"I do, yeah. My husband is the best person I know. He's such a good guy" I blew my nose.

She nodded. Waiting.

"I have a bunch of really great people around me. My friends are amazing"

Why couldn't I stop crying?

"And your family? Your parents? Do you have siblings?"

"My brother is the favourite" I sobbed (OMG Janet - what are you doing???) "My parents have always favoured him and treated me as if I was...inconvenient"

Okay. This was weird.

I spent my entire first session (almost an hour) telling this new psych about how hard I found it to be constantly compared to Jay and falling short...having the goal post moved every time I thought the end was in sight.

I was supposed to come in and talk about my suicide attempts, how my marriage had almost fallen apart, how I second guess myself and don't feel right in my body...why was I harping on about my family, for goodness sakes?

About 10 minutes before our 'session' was to end, Francesca threw me for a loop by suddenly recommending I get a dog.

"Pardon?" I wiped more tears away.

"If you stroke a pet, it releases oxytocins which are a happy hormone...it sounds like you really need some happiness in your life" Francesca continued.

This was even weirder.

A dog?!? Seriously?

"No thank you, I don't really like animals" I said. TRUTH. Sorry, but I'm not a lover of animals.

"Why not?" she pressed, looking at me accusingly...or so I thought. It's hard to be sure, I'd worked myself up into quite the frenzy when this new psych had suddenly decided to change tack.

I felt as if during this psych session, I'd been driving with her in the passenger seat, down a long road of family history. This sudden dog recommendation felt as if she'd reached over and taken control of the wheel, steering us suddenly off into a field.

This is not where I wanted to be.

Admittedly, I'd gone off on quite a strange tangent myself but this was my session, wasn't it?

What did a dog have to do with it?

"I struggle a lot with depression and anxiety" I explained "so my way to cope and my best chance at  survival is to rest as much as possible. With a demanding job on the cards and anxiety robbing me of sleep as it is, I think a pet right now would demand a lot of work and I don't have that left in me. I want to come home from work, eat a small meal and go to bed. Loving my husband and friends is all the responsibility I want to take...and maybe doing a bit of house cleaning"

"So not a dog, then?" she asked again, seeming greatly disappointed in my explanation.

"No" I said; my tears had dried and my sadness about my family life was now quickly being replaced with rising anger.

Did I stutter, Fran? I said NO DOG.

"Maybe you could consider a cat, then" Francesca continued, regardless "You don't need to walk them or care for them as much as you would with a dog"

Are you kidding me right now?

"I don't think I'm ready at this moment in time for any pets" I repeated, getting annoyed "As I said, I'm really struggling so any time I can rest is super precious to me...a cat is still a responsibility nonetheless and I really would rather not have a pet - of ANY kind - in my life"

There was silence in the room.

I was just starting to relax, hoping we could move ON from pet ownership when Francesca spoke again.

"...Does Alun want a dog?"

FFS.

"I mean...you don't want to get a dog but maybe it would mean a lot to Alun?" she asked, addressing the surprise on my face.

Why are we still talking about this?

"Alun would probably love a dog" I admitted, surprising myself and remembering back a few years ago when we moved into our home in Bayswater and Alun had proclaimed the garden "big enough for a puppy". Bless him.

"Then I definitely think you should get a dog"

Again with this? REALLY?

I sighed in exasperation. Also trying to take deep breaths to calm myself down. Francesca was really starting to PISS ME OFF now.

"I would really rather not...as I said earlier, I need to -"

"Because dogs are great" she interrupted "I recently split up from my partner. He took the dog and I got the kids. The kids missed our dog so much - so we got a puppy a few months ago and he's really blessed our lives. The kids and I are so happy now that we have a dog"

Ok, now I see. YOU have a dog and YOU feel so much better so you're probably wanting ALL your patients to get a dog.

Most psychs just want to give me drugs and push me out the door. You want to give out dogs.

"I'm guessing a puppy was a lot of work?" I ventured, giving up on arguing because I could see this woman was hell-bent on talking about dogs so I'd just go with it. I glanced at the clock, only 5 minutes to go, anyway.

"OMG yes" Francesca laughed "He was so little. He cried all night in the laundry and I kept having to go in there and shush the little guy. He's okay now, but it was a tough few weeks"

"Good for you for getting him settled" inwardly I rolled my eyes.

"We got a puppy whisperer in" she confided, leaning forward in her excitement "James was AMAZING. He's on the telly, you know?"

I assured her I didn't.

"Oh he's amazing" she sighed dreamily "We don't have any troubles with the new puppy now"

Great.

I started to reach for my bag, thanking God this farce was almost over.

This dog-mad woman was not the psych for me.

"Oh...before you go?" Francesca reached out a hand in the 'stop' sign, halting me.

I wasn't sure whether to put my bag back on the floor or get up and leave so I opted for a compromise and put it on my lap, sitting on the edge of my chair - my foot tapping impatiently.

"I'd really like to see you and work with you on the pain you're obviously in" she said.

With literally no time left, she was suddenly the psych I'd been looking for.

"I think you meandered a lot in this session and I'd like to get to what the real cause of your pain is" Francesca continued "We need to be real with each other though - I get the sense you're just being polite, Janet"

"I think being polite is the best way to deal with tough conversations" I countered.

"I think you should come back for the next available appointment and we'll try to make a plan of how to deal with the pain you're going through. I'm a very goals-focused person and I think it will really help you"

Again with the change of tack. Another jerk of the steering wheel and we're off in a totally new direction.

I was intrigued by this new direction though, because at least we were back on a road I wanted to explore.

I bit my lip.

"Do you agree to another appointment?" she asked.

"Ok" I agreed.

Psych - 1
Janet - 1

So I'll try Francesca again next Wednesday at 1pm. I'll leave work early and see how we go.

Just ONE mention of a dog though - and I'm out of there, I can't be dealing with that bollocks.

I miss George.


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