Oh, my, God, Becky

Look at her brain.  It is so big!  She looks like one of those intellectual guys’ girlfriends.

Ok, that’s as far as I can go with my Sir Mix-a-lot analogy.  I mean, he’s really not that clever.  He wrote an entire song about butts!  Or maybe that makes him a genius.  Whatever.

So.  Holy fucking shit.  I went to a sample class at the school I’m looking at for my Master’s.  It blew my mind.  In a ridiculously awesome way.  It was on Family of Origin, which is the first class you take for the MA in either branch they offer.

I think I’ve said it before, but Psychology is fucking fascinating!  I can now say that this is absofuckinglutely without a doubt what I want to do.

Dear School:

And who doesn’t love a good Saved By the Bell reference… in the words of Jesse Spano:

Oh yeah.  I went there.  I did, in fact, just reference the greatest moment in SBTB history.

Like, wow.  Just wow.  I don’t even know if I can form words to express how … how… amazingly speechless I am.

So the instructor referred to this class (the whole class, not just the sample) as the “boot camp” of the MA program.  At some point he mentions a client who’s going into the program, and they’ve done a lot of FOO work together, so she’s totally going to be a “ringer.”  I’m thinking, OOH!  OOH!  SO AM I!  I’VE DONE ALL THIS!!!!!!!  Thanks, Chris! ❤

Know what else I got from the class, besides fascinating core concepts about FOO, and relationships?  Righteous indignation!  OH, TAKE THAT!  Because, y’know, righteous indignation is totally healthy.  I’M RIGHT, SO, IN YOUR FACE!!

So the instructor was talking about his private practice.  Which he does, in his home.  He said he doesn’t have any kind of therapeutic persona, that WYSIWYG.  So I asked him, “so you don’t believe in the blank screen, then?”

“No.  I couldn’t get therapy from a piece of paper.  I just wouldn’t feel safe.”

So after the class, I went up to him and talked about how I’ve done a lot of work on my own FOO, both in 12-step, and with my “piece of paper.”  We talked a bit, and then he gave me a hug!

Yeah, that’s right, I referred to Sid as a piece of paper.

So, I think it was when I asked Sid his favorite color, he called blank screen on me.  He said, “that blank screen is important.”  Having done my homework, I wanted to say, “actually, that’s a matter of opinion!”  Because it really is.  Some therapists strongly believe in it (clearly he does) and some not at all, and I’m sure there are plenty in between.

Anyway.  I’m not saying the blank screen is right or wrong.  Presumably it’s right for Sid.  Maybe I can, grudgingly, admit that it’s right for our therapeutic relationship.  Maybe.

One time my first therapist here, Neil*, and I were talking about my mother (surprise!) and he said something off the cuff about how sometimes things like that can lead someone to want to be a therapist.  Pretty obvious he was talking about himself there, and he was trying to relate to my experience.  But it kind of puzzled me to break that boundary, I guess.  In hindsight… maybe a little foreshadowing? 😉  And I’ve often stated how, while I think he was helpful in some ways, I’ve accomplished so much more with Sid in just a fraction of the time.

Ok.  My point.  My righteous indignation comes from:
1. I’m right!  It’s NOT the only way!
2. I’m not crazy for wanting to get to know him!

BUT I’M RIGHT, DAMN IT!!
*pouts*
*stomps feet*

Ok.  I’m done now.

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One thought on “Oh, my, God, Becky

  1. Interesting. Thinking about it, my counselor is not a blank screen. She’s talked a little about her own experience with similar things (mainly to illustrate how long it takes to get through them). I know about her nephews and that she has a friend down the street from me And has driven by my house.
    I suspect that some might maintain the blank screen because they know that they would have a hard time not sharing too much. It also might depend on the client. Some people might need the blank screen.

    Like

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