Public and Professional Behavior
Feet tapping in angst and disbelief that you are at a mental health clinic, you burrow deeper into the plush couch trying not to think about who last laid his hopefully-not-dandruff-ridden head where you are leaning back towards. Big sigh.
“If only Molly hadn’t insisted that I come! What’s wrong with bewitched-flying-cars…Fred and George flew it beautifully without any trouble…mumble jumble…uuurghhh this Muggle is probably not going to understand a SINGLE word I say…”
Klackety-clack, klackety-clack. You raise your head just in time to see low-heeled beige pumps joined with the cuff of grey, ironed slacks. A little above that was a white cotton blouse, and a little above that rested the head of a smiling face with shoulder-length, brown hair. Sleek but relatable. In her mid-forties perhaps? The smiling face had creased, inquisitive eyes as she walked towards you with her hand forward.
Rubbing your sweaty palms on your geans (or was it jenes?) you stand awkwardly to shake hands.
“Hi! My name is Sandy. Please step into my office and we can talk further.”
Sandy ushers you into her room and closes the door. “Feel free to sit anywhere you wish to!”
Reluctantly moving to one of the couches, you sit right at the edge of the cushion with folded arms. Then try to sit a little straighter in case the psychologist is evaluating your behavior and sensing a lack of control in life because you are slumped forward. Then open your legs wider (“do a man-spread”) in case she is drawing the way you sit with her pen and deciding that your wife makes decisions at home instead of you. Then jolting up to look at your psychologist just smiling and making herself comfortable in her seat.
“Wait…she isn’t scrutinizing my every move and every step…huh.”
At the end of 90 minutes, you are rested well into your seat, enraptured with Sandy’s description of how sessions are going to be like. Without realizing it, you are leaning forward and adding your suggestions to what you’d enjoy for next week’s session. Sandy was kind and patient while you described the “little problem with Molly” and assured that despite her inability to comprehend a flying car, she was open to discussing the matter further. Sandy waved you goodbye from her office and shook your hand once again for good measure.
“huh…seems like Muggles ain’t that bad after all. Can’t wait to tell Molly! I am FASCINATED!”
Private Behavior
Sandy smiles as her client leaves the clinic with a skip in his step. What a drastic difference to his demeanor when he just came in! “Like he was waiting for roti canai knowing that no dhal or curry was available”, Sandy mused in her thoughts. She’d have to arrange for an assessment of psychotic symptoms soon though…Slipping off her shoes, she stretches in the couch and moves towards her desktop. She wonders briefly if she should type up her notes immediately or wait till after lunch… Duhhh. Of course it’d wait till after lunch! There’s a promotion going on at McDonald’s!
Sandy gossips happily on the phone with her husband about her neighbour’s latest feud with the stray cat that poops at his property punctually each morning at 7AM during lunch and bumps into a stranger engrossed with his phone. “Sorry!” Sandy rang out without looking back. The stranger purses his lips and walks on.
Sandy walks on and joins her friend who is just-about at the top of the queue. Dismissing the frowns behind her, she orders the latest Shaker fries with sour durian-truffle* mix and talks about how she was looking forward to finally having it. During the meal, Sandy challenges her friend to a soft-burping contest to the tune of Justin Bieber’s “Yummy” and loses. Relentlessly, she demands that the challenge take place again on the next day.
“A girl gotta do what a girl gotta do! I have been the reigning burping queen for ages!” Competitive by nature, Sandy wasn’t going to let a little losing interfere with her record (interestingly, the only people she ever won against were her kids).
Wiping her mouth, Sandy declares that she has to head back to work. She redraws her lips in the toilet and rushes back to type up her case notes before she forgets…another day in the office.
So, what do friends get?
As you have probably grasped by now, psychologists do not behave as psychologists in their own time. They are not courteously analyzing every move made by colleagues and drawing conclusions at home about friends into thick files custom-made for each individual they meet. Sometimes they forget to say thank you. Sometimes they cut queues. Sometimes they lose their temper too (shockerrrr!).
With my friends, I rarely assume authority over each and every problem they tout (mind you, I am still just a trainee). As with all people groups, there are friends who are more assertive with their opinions and better at looking at situations than I do. They may be better-informed about their industries and possess more experience with said problem. And most importantly, they may not want to be analyzed by a friend at all!
Psychologists may (MAY being emphasized here) suggest one or two different perspectives to enlarge the bigger picture observed. They may be identified as a better listener (if they want to), a good debater (if they need to), or a kind friend (this they should do). Sometimes you may be amazed at their insights or how they arrange things discussed into order to make it simpler. The rest of the time you are probably feeling the same way about this friend that you ever did in the past.
My stand is this: If you do not wish to serve as a banker/engineer/marketer/chef to all your friends, you shouldn’t expect a psychologist friend to serve you the way they do their clients too.
roti canai: a staple food in Malaysia made of flour, eggs, and vegetable oil, molded and folded into round flat shapes and fried on a hot pan. Also known as roti pratha.
Dhal: a sauce made of lentils, ginger, curry leaves and other spices that is typically served with roti canai.
Sour durian-truffle mix: a Shaker fries mix that is yet to be and I hope, never be invented by McDonald’s for their French fries.
