Psychology

I was a teacher for many years before I became a therapist. Over the years, whenever I wronged a student, I tried to find a way to apologize if I knew that a student held some grudge or was upset at me.

Totty. Dark, untidy frizzes border his soft, pale face. He is my father…..my dear father. Glancing at a picture of Totty, all the good, old memories come flooding back to my baffled mind. I feel the heated tears trickling down my face. First one, then another, and then they become too many to count.

When a client meets me face to face for the first time, they are seeing a façade.

Helicopter parents.
Ever heard of those?
First time I heard that description of parents that hover about their children, I got a huge kick out of it. I was able to see that helicopter parent perfectly. Their bodies floating above in the air above their children, arms out protectively whirring like the rotary blades of the copter, the wind whipping at their faces so that their faces are squinched up (I just made up that word but it’s perfect, no?) in pain and worry as they hurtle around their children, trying to keep them safe.

People are going to therapy. Yes!
How many people are going to therapy, you want to know?
This is what I tell my friends and family when they ask me. “When you sit at a table at a simchah, just count off every third person. That person has a close family member in therapy, whether or not they know it.” Then I add, “Really, I believe it’s every second person sitting at that table, but I wanted to be conservative in my assessment.”

This column is being written in early May, scheduled to be printed after Shavuos but before the camp season begins. As I write this, I have no idea if camps will open this summer, if thousands of our children will be in the mountains in sleepaway camps, or if they will be camp-less, job-less, and bored-full.

You know how some people (not you visiting my website, of course!) think it’s no big deal to be a therapist? Like, you sit in a comfy office a few hours a day, nod sagely, swivel around on your chair, have

Hang around some teenage girls and this is what you often hear: “I’m so depressed!”
And that statement is usually followed by: “I just found another pimple,” or “I hate studying for tests,” or “The ice cream store didn’t have any more pistachio left.”