I have no idea whether that song has anything to do with psychotherapy via phone call. But that's what I did this afternoon. My therapist is very old, and to make sure that he doesn't catch anything from his clients, he is now doing tele- ... something. Tele-therapy? Anyway, I wanted to see him because I'm anxious as shit over ... well (gestures all around me) and his secretary said that he, like I thought, will only talk over the phone.
Smart. But I had no idea what to expect. Worse yet, I was late for my appointment time because ... well, OK: I left work at 1, thought about eating fast food, all the drive-thrus are packed (well, the more popular ones; McDonald's and Burger King, not so much), got my shoes shined (should blog post that, too), then wanted fast food so bad that I went to Culver's and, by the time 2:30 rolled around, I was still stuck in line. Thankfully, I think, my therapist called several minutes late -- after I got through the line and parked in the parking lot. I began my spiel as I opened up the Butterburger Deluxe I ordered.
I had little idea how different it was going to be talking to him over the phone as opposed to in-person. One thing I thought would happen was that the session would be much shorter, and it was -- 45 minutes rather than an hour. Honestly, a part of me wanted to take a walk at a park before I would be coming home for dinner too late; thankfully, as I was cutting the call short, he thought that I should take a walk in order to deal with my stress. Another reason why I cut it short was because the parking lot was fairly busy. In fact, as I began my session, a car pulled up in the space next to me, left after a bit, and apparently went through the drive-thru because, after a while, they were back in that same space. (They left a bit before I took off for the park.) There were three people inside, and I would bet that they could hear me speak to my shrink over the phone. I don't like that. Oh, and they weren't doing a whole lot of social distancing, either.
But the main drawback over this tele-session is that it was difficult for me to have a conversation with my psychologist without seeing him. It helps tremendously to look into the eyes of the person you're talking to -- anyone, not just your therapist. Without it, I can't pick up any body language, which would make me think I should repeat myself, or slow down, or go into greater detail. And without the aid of those cues, two people speaking to each other over the phone wouldn't be able to shift the conversation based on those subtle, non-verbal cues that coaxes the other person to deepen that thought, and to clarify that question. And phone calls are rife with pregnant pauses followed by both of you talking at the same time. That makes for a rough conversation. Now, that hasn't stopped me from having deep conversations in the past with my friends. But maybe I'm used to seeing my psychologist and thus calling him will always be inadequate. Also, it's been a long, long time since I've had a deep conversation with a friend. And by the way, can you imagine anyone, but especially millennials in Gen Z'ers, talking over the phone? It's Facetime and Skype and texting. I do more of that than calling, and I still find it weird.
He asked me to call next week. It'll have to be at a time before I come home, and it'll probably be at, like, a park somewhere. And still it won't be the same as seeing him face-to-face. But I'll have to. Because right now, I need to reach out to someone in the face of this impending doom, someway.
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