Ernest: “Maybe, six months.”
Dr. F: “Can you tell me what changes occurred in your life about this time?
E: “I don’t think anything unusual happened. Oh, wait…I started writing a blog then. But what does that have to do with anything?”
Dr. F: “Well, did you know that writers suffer significantly higher rates of mental illness than non-writers?”
E: "But, wait a second, my writing has been a release for me. It allows me to, sort of, unload my frustrations. You can write things that you normally can’t say to people directly.”
Dr. F: “Like what?”
E: Long pause.
Dr. F: “Take your time, this could be important.”
E: “I wrote a post about my girlfriend.”
Dr. F: “Ok, that’s a start. What did you write about her?”
E: “I wrote that I was, sort of, upset that she had hung out with my brother.”
Dr. F: “Ok, now we’re getting somewhere. So you were upset about that?”
E: “Yeah, sure.”
Dr. F: “Tell me, why did that upset you?”
E: “Well…I found out they went to bed together.”
Dr. F: “Oh, I see. So, did this happen before you were going out?”
E: “No, they were doing it the whole time I’ve been dating her. And she’s been flaunting it all over town.”
Dr. F: “I still am not seeing the cause for anxiety and depression. Perhaps you could tell me exactly what you wrote in your blog.”
E: “Well…I wrote that if I caught them again, I would set them on fire and hack their bodies into little pieces.”
Dr. F: “See, this what I meant about writers having higher rates of mental illness. Don’t you see? Your writing has caused all these problems. It’s just so unhealthy. You need to stop writing and just learn to relax a little. I can prescribe something if you like. Believe me, you will survive. Same time next week?”
Thanks to Steph for inspiring me to use the psychiatrist’s couch as a vehicle for this story with her excellent piece, “Salacious”.
Your comments are apprciated.