I tell stories for a girl who cannot hear them. (halonoose) wrote in misused_words,
I tell stories for a girl who cannot hear them.

Short exercie: psychiatrist.

Hey I'm the second member to join. First after the clubs starter. Heh Heh.

Well here's nothing.C&C welcomed.

I scribble notes everywhere. It's a nervous habit. I can be sitting in a psychiatrist's office and if something he asks me makes me nervous I'll start to scribble notes on to anything, desk, legal pads, jeans, perscription pads, arms, anything. My psychiatrist thinks it's a blessing because I'll admit what's wrong in most cases without ever telling him a thing. A question about my feelings towards my father would result in a coffee-ringed napkin bearing the words.

We live in a Potemkin village that has been manufactured into a supository, in hopes that if we take it we'll never forget the American Dream. Childhood trauma.

My psychiatrist will take that home analysize it for meaning and then come back with a conclusion - although false - that he believes to be correct. Those short notes to myself suggest how my father may have beaten me when I failed to me a prescedent that he had set so high that even olympic pole voltists would have difficulty reaching. Which is unfair to say because my father never actually beat me and he never expected too much from me, I was just never able to focus my attention on any one thing that would have a significance influence on my life. At least not in a positive way.

If you can imagine a way to ruin a life, I probably can tell you how to do it best. See most people do the wrong things when they try to ruin their lives. Things like affairs, smoking weed, overdoses, and attempted suicides won't ruin your life, they'll just put you back a few steps, but in nearly all cases you can bounce back to better than before if you just apply yourself and surrounded yourself with the right people. A psychiatrist will not be able to help you because they'll only prescribe you the most expensive drug you can afford while barely existing. They went through medical school just so they could work in a soft science and prescribe drugs. Many of them will gladly prescribe something you don't need if they need to sustain themselves and their foot traffic isn't providing the feed in exchange for a little under the counter feed.
You just have to find the right psychiatrist.
Usually you'll want one that has already seen most of it and has so many toys that he'll sell you anything provided the cash is right, but going to him has it's cons as well. He'll charge you more than a truly fair price because his aged ass has a brand new anniversary Porsche that needs to be paid off. It was a birthday present to himself most likely. Plus he knows that if you come to him you more than likely have the outrageous fee he is asking for. His main clientelle consists of middle income to rich mothers who can't handle the anxiety they suffer over their husband's infedility.
But you still want someone who has seen most of his more interesting cases in his early years and tires of the trade, but doesn't want to go back to school because he's in his mid thirties. You don't want someone in their forties because chances are they have been dealing drugs under the table for awhile. You want someone who is timid or insecure. Someone who still has a little bit of a conscience left. He'll be more willing to distribute them to you at a cheaper price, especially if he thinks you have the ability to turn him into the cops. If you slightly shift your weight while leaning in on him he'll most likely give in to your desires. After two or three years though you'll want to find a new psychiatrist because chances are the old one was gaining confidence as a drug dealer.
So step one to ruining your life is surrounding yourself with the perfect people. Psychiatrist being the prime example.

Today's psychiatrist has a gold plated name block on his desk, it reads - Dr. Thomas Zieldinger Phd. He's been in his plush office that looks like something out of a safari hunting gentleman's office. Fat leather chairs and sofa, rich wood with a dark finish, and green walls, lots of plants, and boar's head mounted behind his desk just above his diplomas. When I sat in the chair it cracked like fresh dead calf skin. Although this is my first time with this psychiatrist, I can already tell he overpaid for the everything in the office. It almost looks like he just moved into the room, but there are tell-tale signs. If you look at any framed picture on a wall the area behind it is only darker because it's a shade, but if the color appears to be muted that means there is an extravagant amount of dust build up. If the area behing the frame looks more intense in color that means the paint on the walls has been muted from the sunlight and florescents. Both options take time and this office is no exception.
Faint scratch marks next to the bookshelf show that it has been the office has been rearranged recently and there is a slight shift in paint tones where he tried to cover his tracks but didn't paint the whole room when he didn't feel it necessary. Which it isn't particularly since most of his clients won't notice it hidden behind a potted baby palm. Let's talk about your father.

We live in a Potemkin village that has been manufactured into a supository, in hopes that if we take it we'll never forget the American Dream. Childhood trauma.

part 1
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