Monday, 11 May 2009

My first attempt at therapy - dangerous

Ultimately for the social phobic life becomes unbearable that (s)he seeks help. My first stop was a psychoanalyst. This period covered some 18 months of my life and was not exactly crowned with glory.

Actually, this was a guy who had a face like a bulldog licking piss of a nettle - the pic is not him as it would flatter him - but that should not put one off. Basically, he just sat there and let me talk, If I did not speak he would also say nothing. A rather expensive 40 minutes of silence twice a week.

Under no circumstances would be prescribe medication - nothing - no matter what I felt like. It was the first time in my life that I was close to suicide. I even spent hours planning it in my head - and he knew this.

1 comment:

  1. haha 'a face like a bulldog licking piss off a nettle' !!!