The Fun of Being a Therapist

Friends, The Office, 30 Rock… what do they have in common? High quality, jaw dropping, “I can’t believe that just happened” antics. Not exactly the picture you’d get coming from a psych practice tucked away on 21^st and K. Although it might be hard to picture your therapist as anything other than the serene voice of reason, leaned back in a chair with legs folded, when the 9 to 5 ends, they have to go back to being “just regular people,” too. However during the 9 to 5 being a psychologist is like 3 parts doctor, 2 parts friend, and somehow 1 part secret espionage agent… (Yes, I’m actually serious).

A therapist can’t be late for appointments because he or she has to be completely reliable and 100% stable in the patient’s eyes. This means being in the office early with undivided attention focused expressly on the needs of the individual. But what you may not know is that it also means a complete shift of identity for the therapist as well. Many avoid wearing flip-flops and clothes that reveal too much of their skin. They have to duck in and out of cover in public when simply catching sight of a client out of the corner of an eye and wait until after a patient has left the building before moving the car (which by then might have a parking ticket) to keep their patients from seeing what kind of cars they drive or things like that. All of this goes to the anonymity necessary for the therapist-patient relationship. Yes, some therapists quite literally have to hide and wait for clients to come and go in order to live their lives as both citizens and care-givers. God forbid should you go to a club and end up seeing one of your patients there. That means diving behind couches and chairs avoiding eye contact until you reach the door and end what would’ve been a fun night a bit too early. Hard to imagine therapists even going to clubs right?

It’s called the Tabula Raza or “blank slate.” The people who rely on you for psychological care have to be people separated from the greater part their therapists’ social lives. They have to project their emotional difficulties onto the care-giver and, in turn, that giver must sometimes act as a surrogate voice for the patient. Being a psychologist then, becomes something like putting on a blank canvas and allowing the patient to paint you as whatever they need you to be. Obviously that means overexposing them to the rest of you and your own experience is kind of a “no no.” Some therapists watch showing their toes outright (sorry, the cute shoes might have to go). The feet are the roots of a person—the base and stable ground. Essentially, hideous feet are the mark of someone not too interested in personal care and either consciously or subconsciously gives the impression that your stability and self-care are not where they should be… Never a good impression for a mental health doctor.

And while presentation/espionage is a decent part of keeping the relationship between patient and doctor well established, there’s also the actual health of the therapist to keep in mind. Part of the idea behind therapy is giving of your own Ego to the patient. The therapeutic process is an act of sharing with the client and, at times, can prove taxing on the part of the giver. Hence, as much of the therapist’s life as possible must be nurturing and serving to mental health from relationships to home life to daily exercise and food. It’s like everything out of the Prestige—living your act and being your profession. It’s nearly impossible to be a functioning therapist and not practice what you preach. Giving another person the guidelines to maintaining their functionality implies that you, yourself, can remain functional—which is NOT to say that a therapist has all the answers and has everything figured out, but rather, the skills have to be put into practice. It’s an interesting side to the practice (never mind the business and years of schooling that go into it). But watching the doctors here at PGW hold up behind closed doors for a lighting fast wardrobe and scene change is like TV at its best—except I’d be that “normal” guy just standing in the corner, shaking my head at the comedy of it all because—at the end of the day people are always still people.