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Bad Therapist: A Romance
Bad Therapist: A Romance
Bad Therapist: A Romance
Ebook225 pages3 hours

Bad Therapist: A Romance

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Bad Therapist: A Romance, is a playful comic novel recounting a romance between a mild-mannered New York City psychotherapist and a blue alien from outer space. It is best described as sui generis - but if you have a sense of humor about psychotherapy and a curiosity about what it might feel like to be sitting in that other chair... this might be for you.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherBookBaby
Release dateFeb 14, 2013
ISBN9781483505886
Bad Therapist: A Romance

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    Book preview

    Bad Therapist - Will Meyerhofer

    up?"

    Chapter one

    THE NIGHT WE MET

    As you can imagine, things grew curiouser - and more interesting - after that.

    Beginnings acquire resonance – especially when you’re embarking upon a relationship. In couples counseling, there’s often a juncture in the early sessions when things turn sour and the clients shut down or snap away to little purpose. That’s when I steer them, as best I can, to the point of origin. The method is to inquire, all innocence: So how did you guys meet? If there were ever strengths in evidence – some mutual respect or attraction - they must have been there during the first date. By transporting a couple back to an era when they discussed issues rather than hurled attacks, I attempt to determine how they once believed it could work.

    So I pose the innocent question – and things soften. Picture a shy exchange of smiles, as they assure me they met under the craziest circumstances. I won’t believe it.

    I’ve been around a while. Try me.

    Anyway… so that’s how Sherwin and I met – under the craziest circumstances. I told you you wouldn’t believe it.

    His real name isn’t Sherwin, of course. It’s something unpronounceable (written out, it’s along the lines of Tzai-uorli-guo-jirngum-dah.) Originally, he wanted me to call him Shlomo - which is a long story I’ll get around to in a bit.

    It’s hard to run the tape back slowly like this, since it all went by in a blur. I stared at him – like, literally stared, with my eyes running over his entirety again and again, taking in the whole package. My mind was spinning at about three thousand rotations per second. It’s not so much like running a tape, playing our first meeting back – it’s more a reconstruction job, like when the witness tells the jury exactly what he saw that night, but in reality he’s piecing together what he must have seen based on how he must have felt, now that he’s going back to think about it.

    So – keep in mind, I was operating under the assumption I was dealing with a pathological liar – that whole frame was still in place. That sounds odd, since a moment later I was staring at a blue-skinned alien, but then it all happened so fast (this does sound like a witness in court.) I was on the phone with Charlie Silverstein - whom I was comfortably certain was lying to me – with a big, complex, creative lie – and I was thinking, he sounds young, it might be some sort of cry for help – something with the feel of a borderline personality, meaning he wants attention and love, but is also in a rage because, based on past experience, he predicts he’ll always be denied that care, so he tries to get attention in an angry, manipulative way, i.e., by constructing complex lies to hook a person and keep that person interested in him. The classic description of borderline personality disorder is "I love you – I hate you – don’t leave

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