The Psychologist

Chapter 1 Caleb had had visions of his psychologist as being older and distinguished- looking. Perhaps greying at the sides, but handsome nevertheless. He’d imagined blue eyes that sparkled as the man sat in his chair, watching Caleb for giveaway signs before turning to the pad on his lap where he would make notes. He’d imagined a man who kept fit, who took pride in his appearance and wore one of those jackets with patches on the sleeves. A little dated in the twenty-first century, but when Caleb thought of psychologists, he always imaged them wearing such a jacket. Yet Richard Johannsen was none of those things. His hair was sandy blond and somewhere between curly and wavy. He had brown eyes and wore a moustache, which hid his top lip. And while he wasn’t unpleasant to look at, there was nothing classically handsome about him. Perhaps that was for the best. Caleb was there for therapy, not for romance. “Can you tell me why you’ve come to see me today?” Richard began. Caleb shifted uncomfortably in his chair. On the half-hour drive to the psychologist’s office, he’d anticipated this question and had constructed what he thought was a pretty good answer. But now, with the gaze of the psychologist upon him, his carefully planned words had disappeared from existence. “In a nutshell, I want to be happy.” “And what do you think is preventing that from happening?” Caleb baulked at the question. Surely if he knew what was preventing him from being happy, he could keep the hundred and eighty dollars per session in the bank and do something about it himself. The psychologist must have sensed his thoughts. “Let me rephrase that. Tell me why you’re unhappy.” A better question. “I guess I started out in life feeling pretty good about myself. I had a pretty positive self-image built, word by word, by my mother’s praise and encouragement. When I was six, I began school and there, almost immediately, began the deconstruction of all my mother’s hard work. The other children had no qualms about telling me I was different and that this difference, which was an utter mystery to me, made me in some way inferior. “After many years of being subjected to name-calling, teasing, and bullying, by both students and teachers, I began to believe what they said. That I was less than everyone else, inferior, until it seeped into my soul and became my truth. And since I believed I wasn’t good enough, that’s what manifested in my life. I couldn’t form lasting relationships of any type, with anyone. This in turn reinforced the idea that I was unworthy, not deserving, not good enough. Eventually I just gave up trying and resigned myself to the fact I’d never be happy.” Richard nodded. “And do you think not being happy has become a habit?” Caleb wondered if the psychologist’s questions were more than they seemed. He wondered whether they were as innocent as they appeared, or if they had been carefully constructed in order to extract more from him than he realised. That thought was immediately replaced by another. So what? That’s what he was there for, wasn’t it? What would be the point of paying all that money just to hide things from a man who was going to try and help him? Caleb carefully considered his reply. “I don’t think so. I’ve basically lost the knack of it.” “The knack of it?” “Yes. It seems to me that most people don’t have to do anything to be happy, they just are happy. I can remember times when I was happy. I didn’t have to do anything. I was happy and that was that. And…over time…I’ve lost that knack of just being happy.” Richard nodded. “Okay. Let’s take a look at what you’ve said. Tell me about a time when you were happy. Describe your life at that time to me.” “I was younger. I used to go out a lot. You know, to nightclubs and parties and openings. I didn’t have much money, but somehow I managed. God knows I couldn’t afford to do it now.” He sighed and smiled. “It was the happiest time of my life, actually.” “What made those activities enjoyable for you?” “Meeting people. Getting drunk. Looking for s*x. Finding it.” Richard’s expression remained unchanged at Caleb’s revelations. “Gossiping with friends the next day about everything that had happened the night before. Planning the next night out. Being a part of life.” “Any why is this stage of your life any different?” “I’ve grown up.” “You’re only thirty-two. You’ve got years to go before you’re ready for a retirement home.” Caleb, buoyed by his reminiscences of a misspent youth, felt a familiar grey cloud drift over him. “You don’t understand. My life is different now. Those things are impossible.” “Why?” Caleb felt a flash of annoyance. “Because I’m older and wiser. Because I don’t have the same amount of disposable cash. Because those things just don’t interest me anymore. I lived in nightclubs for fourteen years. They bore me now.” “Can’t you do other things with your friends?” “I didn’t have many to begin with. Not real friends. With most of them, we gradually lost touch with each other. Work took over. I didn’t have much time for them and we grew apart. I take responsibility for that. It was no one’s fault but my own. It’s like I was telling you, I’ve never been good at maintaining any sort of relationship.” “You and your friends grew apart because you worked too much?” Caleb realised how frail his argument sounded, but it was true. Mostly. “Yes and no. I probably used work as an excuse. They still enjoyed going to nightclubs and endless parties, and I grew out of it. I thought most people did. I wanted more out of life, so when it didn’t arrive, and I no longer had anyone to do anything with, I threw myself into work. At first it wasn’t a problem. I was making lots of money. But then one day I realised I wasn’t happy and I hadn’t been for a long time. I missed being happy. Not the things I did that used to make me happy, but the feeling. The sense of joy I used to feel.” “And what about partners? Boyfriends?” The question made Caleb squirm. “Like I said, I’m not capable of having a boyfriend.” “Perhaps you haven’t found the right man.” Caleb shrugged. “I’m not likely to, either. Who’s going to want all this baggage?” Richard, who had been writing furiously, flipped the page and rested the pad on his lap. “First of all, Caleb, there is value in everybody, so we’ll have no more of that negative self-talk. Secondly, that’s almost the end of the session. For homework, I want you to do something that makes you happy. Even for a little while. Something you haven’t done for a long time.” Caleb nodded and wondered at how fast the time had gone, and at how much better he felt for having shared his inner-most thoughts and feelings. “I want you to tell me how it went next time we meet.” Caleb smiled warmly at the psychologist. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy these appointments.