|
Pat Freestone : Shock Therapy |
THERAPY SESSION #1 - 9/9/03 – 2:38 PM
DR. AMY : Alright, Pat. Let’s get out of the baggage claim area for a moment and go back to something we spoke about on the phone. The woman you were recently involved with? Tell me her name.
PAT : Susan. Susan Floozecrotch the Horrible Gonorrhea Troll.
DR. AMY: Okay. So you’re feeling some hostility towards this woman?
PAT: You lost me.
DR. AMY: Alright—let’s just call her Susan.
PAT: That’s what I said.
DR. AMY: Okay. Now, on the phone, you told me that you and Susan had a rather unique—frankly, bizarre—sex life. She would give you large doses of sedatives and erectile enhancers and then make love to you while you slept?
PAT: That is correct.
DR. AMY: And you were comfortable with that?
PAT: Pretty much. Unless my head got crammed into a weird angle, then I would wake up with a stiff neck, but usually, I’d pretty much—
DR. AMY: What I mean is, this was the way you preferred to share sexual intimacy with Susan?
PAT: It was the only way.
DR. AMY: I’m afraid that’s not what I would call a healthy sex life.
PAT: Tell me about it. I feel like I’ve been peeing lava for the last two weeks.
DR. AMY: Why don’t we take a little break, Pat?
PAT: Amen.
THERAPY SESSION #1 - 9/9/03 – 2:55 PMTo be continued...
DR. AMY : Again, Pat, I’m not a dermatologist, so I’m just not qualified to speculate on what exactly that may be.
PAT : It itches like you don’t know what. Do you have one of those back-scratcher things, or maybe a wire brush? Maybe I stepped in poison oak around here somewhere. Is there poison oak around here somewhere?
DR. AMY: I’ll go ahead and give you the name of a physician you can call before you leave today. You can make an appointment to have your foot looked at...there’s really nothing I can do for you in that area.
PAT: I’m afraid to put my shoes back on. Do you think it’s the shoes?
DR. AMY: Pat—that’s okay, Pat. Just leave the shoes off for now. But let’s get back to what we were talking about earlier. You mentioned that your mother left when you were young. Pat?
PAT: Oh, yes. Yes, she did.
DR. AMY: Tell me about that.
PAT: Well, she went ice fishing in Alaska, as she often did, but then she didn’t come back for weeks and weeks, so I just assumed she had been killed by a polar bear.
DR. AMY: What made you think that?
PAT: Because I didn’t think a penguin could take her in a straight fight.
DR. AMY: What I mean is, you didn’t consider the possibility that her leaving was deliberate?
PAT: I mean, maybe an elephant seal, but I just always pictured, you know, a big white polar bear with giant claws and--
DR. AMY: Pat, did you think your mother abandoned you on purpose? Pat?
PAT: Oh my god, look!
DR. AMY: What—what is it?
PAT: Out the window! Look! I think it’s Bigfoot!
DR. AMY: What are you talking about? I don’t see any...Pat? Pat? (long pause) Pat—I can see you behind the couch.
PAT: That’s not me.
THERAPY SESSION #2 - 9/11/03 - 1:12 PMNext time... Part IV!
PAT : I guess sometimes I feel like I'm just destined to be alone. For as long as I can remember, I've had to rely on myself to survive, and...what are you writing there?
DR. AMY: I'm just taking notes.
PAT: What kind of notes?
DR. AMY: Notes to help me help you. Please, continue.
PAT: Can I see?
DR. AMY: I'm afraid the notes are just for me. And there's nothing here besides what you're telling me--I'm just outlining the things that you say for future reference.
PAT: I was just asking, because usually when you see a psychiatrist taking notes, you think they're writing down something important, but then when you see the notepad, it's just doodles, or the word "nutso" written in big letters and underlined five or six times. Or maybe a silly drawing of the patient with an arrow pointing at their head with a little sign that says "crazy."
DR. AMY: I've seen that in movies and on television, but I don't think it happens in real life...I can assure you it never happens in this office.
PAT: Yeah, but still.
DR. AMY: Alright, Pat. If it will put you at ease, you can look at my notes. But then, I'd like to get back to what you were saying about feeling alone.
PAT: You have beautiful handwriting. Elegant.
DR. AMY: Thank you. Now do you see anything there besides what you've been telling me?
PAT: Wait--where are the notes on the story I told you about the time I got stuck in the sandbox when I was five?
DR. AMY: I don't take notes on everything--mostly just on certain key points...
PAT: Me getting trapped in a sandbox is not a key point? I was traumatized! They had to call the fire department to get me out. To this day, I can't go to the beach without breaking into a cold sweat.
DR. AMY: This is not productive, Pat. I think we need to move on.
PAT: Totally ignored the sandbox!
THERAPY SESSION #2 - 9/11/03 - 2:55 PMTomorrow... Part V!
PAT : I want the same things out of life that every man does, I guess.
DR. AMY: A wife, kids, career, a nice house...those sort of things?
PAT: Exactly. Except for the wife. And the kids. And career isn't really that important to me. But a nice house, that would be pretty sweet.
DR. AMY: But no family? No children?
PAT: Let me tell you something about children. Children are wonderful. Children are amazing. But then children turn into teenagers.
DR. AMY: What about when you're old? Don't you want someone to be there for you when you're old?
PAT: Of course. And I want that person to be an attractive mute with a nursing degree and a giant syringe full of morphine.
DR. AMY: These are all very interesting revelations from someone who claims to feel alone in this world.
PAT: So you're saying I'm interesting, eh?.
DR. AMY: Whoa--time's up.
PAT: Damn you're good!
THERAPY SESSION #3 - 9/16/03 - 1:38 PMUntil next time,
PAT : It was very real. Not a recurring dream, mind you. I just had it once. But it was the kind that really sticks with you.
DR. AMY: Describe it for me.
PAT: Okay. It was late at night, and I was lost in an unfamiliar neighborhood. It was a nice neighborhood, but I was sort of scared because I didn't know where I was.
DR. AMY: Go on.
PAT: And I felt tired, like I needed to rest for a moment. So I found this big field of soft grass and lied down in it. I remember it felt wonderful.
DR. AMY: Was that all?
PAT: No. I was lying there, and then all of a sudden in the moonlight, I saw this little Gnome standing there. And he was smiling at me, like he wanted to tell me something. So I got up and walked over to him. But before I could get to him, this giant 50-foot snake wrapped itself around my ankle. I screamed. The more I tried to get away, the more this big, bright green snake wrapped it's cold rubbery body around me. It was choking me.
DR. AMY: Well, there are some powerful symbols at work here. The snake, the unfamiliar place...
PAT: But then, this very large bald man--I think maybe it was supposed to be my father, but it didn't look anything like him--was standing over me in a bathrobe, yelling at me. And that was the end, I think.
DR. AMY: Okay, let's break the dream down into its emotional components.
PAT: Actually, now that I think about it, it wasn't a dream. That was the time I took all that acid when I was 15 and got tangled up in the garden hose in Mr. Johnson's yard. Boy, don't I feel foolish!
THERAPY SESSION #4 - 9/18/03 – 1:40PMSee you tomorrow,
PAT: I suppose my childhood was pretty typical. The normal stuff--you know--physical abuse, alcoholism, sexual molestation, neglect, gender confusion...but my most traumatic childhood memories have to do with a certain bully named Kevin Watkins.
DR. AMY: From school?
PAT: From the neighborhood. He used to sit on this fence down the street and hack loogies on us when we were walking home from school. Sometimes he would punch us, or throw our shoes up on a roof. One time he made me eat a whole pack of firecrackers.
DR. AMY: Why didn’t you tell your parents about this bully?
PAT: I was afraid if I told my father, he’d try to teach me boxing. It just sounded like another chance for my father to be utterly disappointed in me.
DR. AMY: Why do you think this boy was so abusive towards the other kids?
PAT: Well, we found out later on that Kevin’s dad was in prison for killing his mother-in-law, and Kevin’s mom went crazy, so Kevin lived with his aunt who never made him go to school.
DR. AMY: Did you ever try to talk to him, or make friends with him?
PAT: No, because one day he just stopped being a bully. I remember that day very clearly. We picked him up on out shoulders and carried him around the neighborhood cheering. I remember feeling that if Kevin Watkins was no longer my enemy, then anything was possible.
DR. AMY: He just suddenly decided to stop being a bully?
PAT: No, he got run over and killed by a hit-and-run.
THERAPY SESSION #4 - 9/18/03 – 2:06 PM
PAT: Career-wise, that’s just the way I am. I take my work very seriously. I hate it, and I have no idea why I continue to do it, but I take it very seriously.
DR. AMY: A good work ethic is certainly a dying art.
PAT: Tell me about it. Now generally, I hate most of my customers at Big Screen Video, and I often find myself drifting off into various fantasies where I am feeding them to lions or roasting them on a giant rotisserie, or what have you, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let my personal feelings affect the quality of my customer service.
DR. AMY: Do you find that creates stress in your life?
PAT: Not really. But what causes me a great deal of stress is when I am the customer, and I find myself at the mercy of some slack-jawed teenage clerk who can’t even spell the word ‘service,’ let alone provide it..
DR. AMY: That’s a common complaint.
PAT: Like the other day, I decided to hang a picture of my mother in the living room, but realized I didn’t have any tools. So I went to the local home improvement mega-store, and one thing led to another, and pretty soon I had a cart full of merchandise. I wait in line for forty-five minutes while "Regina," the gum-snapping project princess, finally gets to me. She doesn’t look me in the eye, or say hello, or smile, or even acknowledge that I am a human being with a beating heart. The total comes to a thousand dollars and change. She takes my Discover card, swipes it through the register, and then throws it back at me, along with a pen and my sales slip. I sign, and without a word, she moves on to the next customer before I have even given her back her pen.
DR. AMY: Unfortunately, that’s just the kind of service you expect these days with the big retail chains.
PAT: And I take a few steps, and then I remembered what you said about giving my needs a voice, so I turned around and said, "look here, miss. I just spent over a thousand dollars in your store. The very least you could do is say ‘thank you’."
DR. AMY: And how did she react?
PAT: Well, she still didn’t make eye contact, but she let me know that the ‘thank you’ was printed at the bottom of my receipt.
DR. AMY: Whoa.
PAT: Yeah. But the jokes on her—because what she didn’t figure out was that I had $80 worth of D-batteries stuffed down my pants. Thank you, Regina!
THERAPY SESSION #5 - 9/23/03 – 1:15 PM
PAT: It’s driving me insane. I can’t get it out of my head.
DR. AMY: How long has this been going on?
PAT: Since yesterday. I don’t know why. I woke up, and just heard this little chorus somewhere inside my head, and it sang, "the best part of wak-ing up/ is Fol-ger’s in your cup!"
DR. AMY: Well, commercial jingles are designed to be catchy. That’s what the advertisers want.
PAT: The best part of wak-ing up/ is Fol-ger’s in your cup!
DR. AMY: You might want to try listening to some music. I find that helps me when I’ve got a jingle stuck in my head.
PAT: Do you have The Scorpions?
DR. AMY: I meant after the session. Try putting on some music later, after the session. Right now, I’d like to get back to what we were talking about last time. Have you been able to express your anger in a healthy way this week?
PAT: Here I am! Rock you like a hur-ri-cane!
THERAPY SESSION #5 - 9/23/03 – 2:58 PMPat Freestone
DR. AMY: We're just about out of time today, and I need to mention that there was a problem with your Discover card last time.
PAT: Yes, it’s a little bent from when I used it to jimmy open the mini bar at the hotel. You just have to swipe it really slow, and kind of press down on it.
DR. AMY: Actually, we have your account number in the system already—I’m afraid it’s the account itself.
PAT: What are you talking about?
DR. AMY: The charge was declined.
PAT: What? Those bastards!
DR. AMY: Maybe you missed a payment?
PAT: This is how they treat me—a Discover cardmember since 1989? This is the thanks I get? Well, they’re going to be getting a nasty letter from me. Oh, you betcha! I just sent them $25 in April! Do you take Diners Club?
DR. AMY: I’m afraid not.
PAT: Alright, I’ll just pay cash, if that’s alright.
DR. AMY: That’s fine.
PAT: Do I tip you?
DR. AMY: No, Pat. It’s one-fifty for last session and one-fifty for today. Three hundred dollars. What—uh, why are you getting undressed? Pat, please don’t do that.
PAT: This will just take a second. I just need to access my money thong.
THERAPY SESSION #6 - 9/25/03 – 1:01 PMSee you Monday!
PAT: Before we start today, I just want to mention that I feel incredibly lucky to have found someone like you. I must admit to feeling quite skeptical about sitting down with a stranger and paying them to listen to my problems...but you’ve really given me a new way of looking at myself, and a whole new strategy for dealing with the negative patterns in my life. I’ve never felt happier. And I just wanted to say thanks.
DR. AMY: You’re welcome. I’m glad you feel like our sessions have been helpful. Would you like a tissue?
PAT: Sorry, I just got a little choked up.
DR. AMY: It’s okay. Why don’t we spend today trying to get into the roots of some of these raw emotions. You know, the mood swings...
PAT: You’re fired.
