My therapist told me to shut up

If there's one little jewel that can be mined from my experience of being enrolled in full-time study again, it is definitely the student-related perks. I'm talking about having my very own counsellor (therapist) at my every whim and disposal, at no cost to me whatsoever. 

So, I like to  book an appointment every once in a while, a special treat to myself - akin to a massage or pedicure for regular folk, but only so much better!

A one-hour-long, soothing mental massage. Mmmm.

My therapist is around 50 years old, highly qualified with a reassuring Eastern European accent. Just the way I like my therapists.

Sigmund Freud

Some people don't like to go to because it's too 'me-focused' for their comfort. Also, the service appears to be lost on incredulous 19-year-olds who are yet to realise the value of such services in the real world (or perhaps, more realistically, it's simply useless for those whose hearts and souls are as fresh out of the box and unscratched as their shiny new white mac books).

I, on the other hand, live for this shit.

I absolutely love it. I practically run to my appointment and I give my customary greeting to the receptionist, who will smile and say "Hello Miss Z". I sit in the waiting room, legs swinging back and forth with excitement, slightly ashamed that I might be "stealing" time from other genuine cases, but overall, genuinely excited to be there. When I finally get into her office, I tell her how my week is going, and she asks me if I've been doing my execrises.  She gives me a few nuggets of gold and sends me on my way.

That is, until last week. Last week I got a new counsellor. Sure, I could have rescheduled,  but I was so psyched for my session, I thought what the hell. I'll have to run this new one through my back story, but that's ok - more talking for me.

I was a bit nervous, but soon found my ground, and was happily talking away. In hind sight I was probably talking too fast and too loudly. Anyway, she had been filling out some requisite paperwork, when she ostensibly lost it, and told me to shut up. Well not so much "shut up" as much as "OK, LOOK. It's time for some quiet reflection now. Can you just sit there and reflect in your head please?". Her exact words.  Um, come again homegirl? I was shocked. She looked visibly ruffled. Granted, she was filling out paperwork, but how much concentration do you need? Needless to say, I spoke only when spoken to for the rest of the session. I think I'll stick with Dr Eastern European from now on.