Monday, May 28, 2012

Shrinks speak softly. They are low-talkers but they give great empathy. On your final appointment they usually make a short speech; “Psychiatry taught me that you have to come up with your own version of neurotic happiness. I'm never going to be a normal person. No one changes, no one gets better – once you make friends with your neuroses you can plan a life.” 
I might have to book into a therapist myself, a male psychiatrist this time my previous shrinks have been female. 
The start of winter and lack of light has flattened me out. I feel like I’m walking in custard. Thing is, I’m the best semi-retired counselor working in Melbourne.
On the up side my orange tree, which I have grown from, a foundling lying in the yard of a wrecked house is really fruiting up. Homegrown oranges are great, not so sweet, with a real tang. I’m reading many books, Russians & Eastern Europeans. 
I have written a new album of songs, but decided I will wait till next year before doing the rounds of the arts bureaucrats to hawk the idea of recording it. I am an older person. I take medication, but still get a little edgy. However, I am at heart a happy fellow.

 The train rumbles into Newport Station and an older man in blue cotton drill Yakka workwear sat opposite me. He wanted to know what the time was. Next he wanted to know what my nametag meant. I asked him if he wanted a session. I explained the first time it is free. He could talk his head off till Seddon for free. 
I ran my business like a heroin dealer. He didn’t think much of my joke. He looked at me like I was a lying sack of shit.

I gave my spiel: “The idea of these sessions are that they are dynamic and we can jump right into what your real issues are.”

He looked at me like I was a lying sack of shit“Let’s cut to the chase I’ve taken out a 12 week course at a gymnasium, to get fitter and lose a few pounds. I would like to meet some ladies. I am at heart a romantic.”
I interrupted,” Don’t give up at forty-nine hey.”
He smiled, he seemed genuine. 

I said: “I wouldn’t take it too seriously. I mean are you divorced? How long? Kid? Still got ya own teeth, frankly a young twenty-nine year old might be revolted by false teeth. I mean why would you go out with someone who would go out with you?”
I believed I was laying out the facts in a non-judgmental shape.

His face went white and all the colours seemed to drain from his face. “That’s just my opinion I’ve got almost ten years on you, my attitude might be different. I suppose you’ve tried the on-line agencies and the like?”

I handed him my printed card and clipped out a number on the card and gave it to him. “Same time next week, every seventh visit is on me. I shall put my mind to this.”

Seddon Station popped into view.Yakka Man stepped between the automatic doors into reality. He stopped, turned round and looked at me and waved. I snapped out of my trance. It was corny but reassuring; I had a new customer on the books.

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