The Story of 4 sleeping Psychoanalysts

Das New York Magazine hat die fantastische und auf ihre ganz eigene Art super-surreale Geschichte von Stephen Metcalf, dem nicht ein Psychoanalytiker weggepennt ist, als er seine Probleme mit Zeugs schilderte, sondern vier. Das sind alle Psychoonkel, bei denen er jemals war. Alle eingeschlafen. Spätestens nach dem dritten hätte ich mir ja 'nen Strick genommen, glaube ich.

Im NYMag hat er nun aufgeschrieben, wie er alle vier erneut besucht und nachgefragt hat, was denn bitte so einschläfernd war. Wie „High Fidelity“, nur mit schlafenden Psychoanalytikern. Toll!

I have consulted four therapists in my life, and all four have fallen asleep on me. The ritual—forms, waiting rooms, Kleenex—starts up again, only each time with my own special twist: I pay someone to explore my unconscious mind and instead they sink into theirs. So consistently did I lose wakeful contact with my shrinks that I began to suspect—honest to God—that feigning sleep was a technique for provoking patients to confront their fears of abandonment. “Once in a 40-year career,” said a friend’s shrink, an ancient and cheerful Jungian, when I asked him if he’d ever drifted off while on the clock—making me, I suppose, the Ted Williams of narcissistic monotony.

A little while ago, at a dinner party, I met a prominent analyst, a Kleinian. He is the first therapist I’ve known socially, and I confided in him. “I’d like to go back into therapy, but all four therapists I’ve seen in my life have fallen asleep.” He didn’t laugh. Nor did he ask me how I felt. Instead he took it in, turned it over in his mind, then said, very carefully, “Well, the common denominator here is you.”

Why Would a Shrink Fall Asleep During a Patient's Session? (via Mindhacks)