Therapy

Dr. R. U. Forereel Opens Up

Yeah, Another Blogger79 Comments

Regular readers of this publication might recall at least one or two of the articles in which I detail my encounters with my psychiatrist Dr. R. U. Forereel. For years and years I’ve been seeing Dr. Forereel on a monthly basis. She is a prickly sort, and rather unpredictable in her behavior, but I’m pleased with the improvements I’ve made under her guidance. When I began therapy with her those many moons ago, my happiness level, on a scale of 1 to 10, was 2, which is horrendously low. Due to the valuable insights and suggestions my doctor has given me, it now is at 4, which is pathetic but at least not horrendous. I don’t know about you, but I’ll take pathetic over horrendous any day. Hell, progress is progress! In my book, Dr. Forereel is a winner. And, not surprisingly, she surprised the heck out of me last month during my most recent session with her.

“Nice to see you, Neil,” she said groggily when I entered her office and eased myself into the patient’s chair. As I’m sure just about anyone would have, I regarded her face intently, because bags larger and darker than those in a box of Lipton tea hung below her eyes.

Taken aback by her appearance, I asked if everything was alright.

“Oh yes, Neil. Life is treating me just fine. But I got no sleep whatsoever overnight, which accounts for the pouches you’ve been unable to take your eyes off of. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to stare, young man? And I say young facetiously, of course. Neil, my temporary facial droopings are absolutely lovely compared to the permanent, deep and innumerable wrinkles etched into your aged puss.”

“Yes, doctor, I’m old, if not older, than dirt. Thank you so much for reminding me of this fact. But, getting back to your baggy eyes, what kept you up all night?”

“Well, I’d heard a lot about it, so I binge-watched Netflix’s new reality series, I’m Not Looking For Love, I’m Looking To Get Laid. Neil, this show is fantastic! In each episode, girls and guys in their 20s and 30s hook up quickly and get it on vigorously. These people are so real and honest, not only with themselves but also with each other. They are not the least bit reluctant to grab life by the horns and enjoy it to the max. If everyone were as well-adjusted and pretense-free as they are, therapists would be out of business. It’s a good thing for me that such is not the case. Neil, I urge you to watch this show. You could learn life lessons from it. There’s a real chance it would help raise your happiness level.”

“Doctor, based on what you’ve described, this series might raise more than my happiness level, if you know what I mean. The show sounds tremendously exciting. I imagine it could teach me a few tricks, no?”

“Indeed, Neil. That’s true for nearly everybody, seeing how graphic and unfiltered each episode is. It’s not true for me, though. I’m far more experienced than you would imagine. Neil, you must promise never to mention to anybody what I’m about to reveal to you. Okay?”

“Of course. My lips are tightly sealed.”

“Good. Now, I’m sure you know how monstrously high the costs of medical schooling are. I would have put myself deeply in debt had I not figured out a way to generate hefty income along the path to becoming a psychiatrist. So, I did. Neil, while in med school I acted in adult films. Scores of them. I was known as Miss Duzzitall, and do it all I truly did. Plus, I always wore a mask in the films. To this day, thank heavens, that mask has prevented Miss Duzzitall’s true identity from becoming public knowledge. Oh, I had such a marvelous time. My co-workers were hot and adventurous. As was I.”

“Doctor, I’m almost speechless. You’ve never struck me as the libidinous type at all.”

“Neil, I’ve learned to suppress that side of me. Which perhaps is a mistake. But I have no intention of jeopardizing my professional career. I’m an esteemed therapist, and I want to keep it that way.”

“Doctor Forereel, I’ve always admired you. And now you’ve grown bigger in my eyes than ever before. You are such a complex, fascinating individual.”

“Thank you, Neil. But enough about me. Which of your numerous problems should we focus on today?”

Readers, the remainder of that session was duller than dishwater. I won’t bother going into it. However, despite what I promised Dr. Forereel, there is no way I can keep quiet about the juicy details she spilled to me. Needless to say, I have full confidence in your discretion and good judgment. Meaning, I know you won’t tell a soul!

The Matchmaker

Yeah, Another Blogger123 Comments

“Have a seat, Neil,” my psychiatrist Dr. R. U. Forereel said to me last week when I entered her office for my monthly session. I could tell from her tense tone of voice that she wasn’t in the best frame of mind. Nothing new about that.

“Neil, I’m not in the mood to take on additional challenges today,” she continued, as I lowered myself into the patient’s chair. “So, I hope that you don’t have even more problems than the ones we’ve uncovered over the years. Please tell me that you don’t.”

“Doctor, put your mind at rest. I probably should have cancelled this appointment, because, astonishingly, I’ve never felt better. The clouds have lifted.  I’m as chipper as a British gent. And all of this happened from out of the blue. I can’t believe it, but I’m certainly not complaining.”

“Very good, Neil, very good. Now, allow me to provide illumination. I believe that, subconsciously, you have been mulling over the numerous insights into your psyche that I’ve presented to you at our sessions. It was my hope that one day they truly would resonate with you. At last, they have, though in all honesty I always thought you were a lost cause. Hallelujah, you’re not! Which is why I’m going to submit an account of your case to It’s A Miracle! magazine, one of the American Psychiatric Association’s premier publications. I won’t reveal your name, of course, as that would be highly improper. The most important consideration, anyway, is that my name will appear, not only in the byline but throughout the article, bringing me added fame and many new clients. Thank you, in advance, Neil, for all of that.”

“The article will be of great value to the psychiatric community, Dr. Forereel. And it goes without saying that I am in your debt eternally. Or maybe for only a day or two more if my breakthrough implodes. Whatever, I thank you.”

“My pleasure,” she replied. “Let’s move on. What else shall we discuss today?”

“Seeing that I’m in good mental and emotional shape at the moment, I’d like for us to spend the remainder of the session talking about my friend Tom, instead of about me,” I said, to which my doctor nodded okay. “He’s 55 years old, smart and accomplished. Never been married. Never has had a serious romantic relationship, in fact. Doctor, my friend is keenly aware he’s been missing the boat big time. He needs a woman badly. He’s frustrated and lonely.”

At the word lonely, Dr. Forereel winced. She became silent. Her eyes dropped.

“Dr. Forereel, are you alright? Is there anything I can do?”

A few moments later she raised her eyes to meet mine. Then she spoke. Softly. “Neil, you’ve hit a raw nerve. Here I am, a respected and successful therapist. Yet, as much as I’ve wanted to find true love, I’ve never come close. There must be something about me that turns men away.”

“Well, perhaps your stern demeanor and unwelcome comments play a role in that,” I said. “But what do I know? Have you tried any of the online dating services?”

“Yes, many, and without success. I was especially disappointed when my profile on I’m A Shrink, What Are You? resulted in zero dates. Neil, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I haven’t been out with a man in four years. Oh well, I simply have to accept reality. For me, a life partner, even a temporary partner, isn’t in the cards.”

“I don’t buy it. There’s someone for everyone. Sometimes it just takes a long time to meet the right person. Doctor, what are you looking for in a man?”

“Well, I’ve always felt that too much togetherness is problematic. After all, there really isn’t all that much to talk about after a while, is there? Therefore, the fewer waking hours he and I would share, the better. Also, I would want to be with someone who is a wiz in the kitchen, as I certainly am not. I can’t think of too much beyond that. Which, I suppose, is part of the problem.”

“Doctor Forereel, you may find this hard to believe, but you and Tom might be made for each other. He’s a master chef, for crying out loud! And he works 80 or more hours a week in his restaurant. Since you work like a dog too, the two of you would spend only a handful of waking hours together. Doctor, should I ask Tom to call you? My intuition tells me that you and he will make a fine couple.”

My psychiatrist looked at me with hope in her eyes. Then she said, “Yes, Neil, please do. Oh, this has been one of the most productive sessions I’ve had with any patient. I feel renewed. As for you, fingers crossed that your mental and emotional well-being will remain at a good level. And if that turns out to be the case, which is unlikely, it won’t take away from the fact that there are knotty aspects of your personality that continue to require my attention. See you next month.”