I never really joke about therapy. I think it can be extremely useful, especially since some doctors are a little trigger happy when it comes to doling out prescriptions (I don’t oppose drug therapy. If a person is suffering from a debilitating disorder, medication is often required to help the person achieve a degree of psychological balance. But it should be used in conjunction with other therapeutic approaches). I’ve also written blogs on the different types of therapy and what to look for in a therapist.

Still, it’s good to poke a little fun at psychology sometimes. When people humorously (albeit incorrectly) summarize Freud’s theories as being all about “mother complexes and phallus symbols,” I can’t help but chuckle. So with that in mind:

Signs you need a new therapist

(Note: For the sake of simplicity, I will be using male pronouns when referring to the therapist)

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  • After spending the last hour pouring your heart out and looking for validation from your therapist, he responds with, “Dude, that sucks! OK, it’s my turn now.”
  • At every session, your therapist lies down on the couch while you sit in the chair.
  • He interrupts you every ten minutes with, “Hold that thought. We’ll be back after this commercial break.”
  • Upon closer inspection, the degrees your therapist has hanging on the walls are printed on McDonald’s napkins and authorized by the Hamburglar.
  • The notes in his notebook are actually caricatures of you riding a giraffe.
  • His inner child keeps bullying your inner child.
  • After a particularly embarrassing revelation, he snickers and says, “Just wait ’til the other doctors hear this doozy!”
  • His conclusion after analyzing your dreams and listening to your worries is always, “It’s because you hate your mother.”
  • He responds to all your admissions with Twitter lingo. “RT #sad, #empathy #lifesucks.
  • He has the same phobia you do, so he always has to be one treatment step ahead of you.
  • The “other professionals” he wants to consult about your issue are the empty chair next to him and a puppet…and he often disagrees and argues with the puppet.
  • His idea of reverse psychology is turning is chair around and not looking at you.
  • He says, “Well, that’s all the time we have for today” 3 minutes into the session.
  • He says, “And how does that make you feet?”
  • For some reason, he keeps referring to your subconscious as “Larry.”
  • After describing the difficulties you’ve been facing, he responds with, “Whoa. You are seriously messed up.”
  • He frequently mixes up your issues with his. Like after tearfully admitting that your parents never made you feel loved or offered you praise, he reassured you that there is a great deal you should be proud of: “You’ve got a good education, a thriving practice, and you’re a great therapist. So you can resent my mother if you want and hate the fact that my father was so distant, but *sobs*…where were we?”
  • He asks strange open-ended questions to get you to express your feelings, like “If you were a tree, what type of cheese would you eat?” “What do you think I’m thinking about what you think?” and “Mittens the cat has to catch a connecting train to Piccadilly. The train is traveling at 100km per hour. Why do you think your partner cheated on you?”
  • After the tenth “I see, go on” in a row, you turn around and discover that the therapist has been replaced with a dipping bird repeatedly pressing the Play button on a tape recorder.

Insightfully yours,

Queen D