(S)Talk to Me

My therapist is stalking me. 

Allow me to provide some background: I last saw Dr. E two years ago, after weekly visits that lasted a couple of years. She was sweet, great at what she does and very warm, which is apparently an anomaly when it comes to the profession; detached is a word I hear often from my fellows in treatment. 

So what went wrong? She got too friendly. Our first minute or so of exchanging polite hellos and discussing weather/news/whatever turned into Dr. E spending the first fifteen minutes of our sessions (you know? the same sessions I was paying top dollar for) asking me where to get the sweater I had on that she just had to have. Describing a run that helped ease my tension (ok, anger) prompted her to veer off course in the excited manner of an annoying friend, years your junior, in high school: how far do you run? what gym do you go to? do you stretch after?! Last time I checked I wasn't a personal trainer. 

Dr. E also had the unsettling habit of inadvertently sharing way too much information about her patients with me (example: "Hi June, sorry I kept you waiting but my 5 o'clock--the British lady who moved here for her husband--was very deeply discussing her childhood parent trauma issues."). All I could think was, WHAT IN HELL'S NAME DOES SHE SAY ABOUT ME?!

The last straw came when I described finally reorganizing my closet after ignoring the messy pile for months. She practically jumped out of her leather seat and asked me how I'd found the motivation because she just couldn't get around to it. No doubt she'd been comparing my method with her other patients, I mean one can only assume. 

Big Mama June (my mother) taught me never to trust someone who always told you other people's business. After all why would he/she treat your secrets any differently? 

My frustration got the better of me. Feeling the need to end yet another no-longer-comfortable relationship (a subject we had often discussed, in fact) I just told her I felt "healed," and "ready to lay off therapy for a while." Coward? I've been called worse things--many. Just ask those friends I no longer keep.

Fast forward to our familiar theme, this economy. It hasn't been so good to Dr. E. She, like all of us, has been losing business. She called to ask me how I was doing, and when informed of my newfound ongoing leisurely state, decided it was "imperative" that I come back in for a session--or five--to work on my "growing frustration." 

Dr. E called me three times in the past week.

Is business just slowing down? Or did others find themselves in my dire situation: playing friend to someone whose feelings we should not have to worry about?

Too bad I don't have a shrink to work through these feelings with.

Feeling like Betty Draper in therapy,

June