There are currently 7.8 billion people roaming this earth, of which, by my own estimates, 7.7 billion are in therapy.
Which explains why I cannot find a therapist.
My soon-to-be ex-wife is in therapy; my kids are in therapy; my friends are in therapy; their kids are in therapy. Your kids’ teacher is in therapy. Your Pilates instructor is in therapy. So are your retired parents. I’m a full-time stand-up comedian, and at least three quarters of my colleagues begin their sets with, “So I was talking with my therapist…”
Therapists are in therapy. Just ask Lori Gottlieb, an LA-based therapist and author of the best-seller, Maybe You Should Talk to Someone. Gottlieb sought help after a painful breakup with her boyfriend, a man she erroneously thought would eventually become her husband and a father to her son.
I recently borrowed the book from my local library, but only because I thought maybe Gottlieb’s insights into why people seek therapy, and what they can expect, could solve my issues. Maybe I wouldn’t need a therapist after all! I had to place a hold on the book, but a two-week wait was more appealing than $150 an hour.
It was an entertaining and insightful read but, unfortunately, didn’t provide closure. Time to visit the ATM!
Ikea Should Have a Cheap Therapist Couch
College-aged kids, whatever you are currently majoring in, drop it and switch to a major that requires a sympathetic ear and an office with comfy couches and chairs. Well, I’m not sure about the latter; remember, I still don’t have a therapist. But I have a college friend who is a licensed psychiatrist, and I’ve seen the inside of his office. Also, his waiting room, as his final appointment of the day went long, delaying our dinner plans.
Kids, if you aspire to be a therapist, be advised a good portion of your day will be spent answering emails with a curt, “I’m sorry, but I’m not accepting new patients/clients/cases. May I recommend (insert name of equally overbooked colleague)?” Therapists have to answer these electronic cries for help because their websites fail to mention their bulging calendars. Instead, potential clients are invited to fill out forms stating why they need professional help, lulling them into false senses of hope in the process.
Even my psychiatrist friend is booked.
One therapist limited his queries to 200 words, leading me to wonder if he was genuinely interested in listening to my problems. And yet, I thought, maybe succinctly defining my issues, instead of rambling on about my childhood, my marriage, my physical health, and my current mental state, might be a good exercise. Why not drill down now as opposed to when I was on the couch and the meter was running?
I reworked my query, shortening sentences and thoughts whenever possible. It didn’t matter, as his response required only four words: “My calendar is full.”
…And then COVID hit
As any therapist will admit, COVID-19 is the reason for this mental health crisis. Discussing your problems with strangers suddenly became more popular and chic than pickleball. Kids unable to deal with virtual school ran to therapists. Couples, suddenly living under the same roof 24 hours a day, sought therapy. We all suffered from isolation. Therapists became the answer, even if we had to meet with them while isolated. Incidentally, I did find a therapist who offered me a virtual, or “telehealth” session, but I declined. One nugget I gleaned from Gottlieb’s book is the additional benefits of face-to-face interaction, for both patient and therapist.
So, my search continues while I try to keep my anxieties and issues at bay. Therapists, if you have a cancellation or even if a patient is running late, look me up. I promise to be quick.
Even if our sessions aren’t successful, at least I’ll have a few new minutes of material for my stand-up act.
