Doctor Quack Quack

I remember the time I went to see a shrink.

It was a few years after college; I was already working. Yet I was still grappling with coming out and a succession of unrequited romances. I was getting antsy—it felt like my whole world was caving in. I needed to see a professional.

While I have several close friends who are quite sensible and level-headed, I decided not to talk to them about my problems. Friends aren’t the most objective people to talk to; they have their own hidden agenda and interests to protect. Professionals just need to know that you can pay their fee. Sometimes you really need an outsider with nothing to protect to slap some sense into you.

At first I decided to talk to one of the Cenacle nuns (they were recommended by a priest during one of my last retreats I attended). She was very kind and listened well; best of all she never injected anything religious into our conversations. But she also didn’t ask for any payment, so after three sessions I felt I was taking too much of her time. So I asked her if she can recommend a doctor for me.

The shrink she recommended had his office along Taft Ave. I had to go there for about 5 sessions of an hour each. It was great! Snapped me out of the funk I was in. And because the sessions weren’t exactly that cheap, I had to snap out of it fast, hahaha!

Before there was a stigma attached to seeing a shrink. Nowadays it can be a status symbol, especially if you’re with the hoity-toity crowd. But stigma or symbol aside, seeing a shrink is something one can seriously consider. After all, they don’t tell you the solution; they merely help you figure things out on your own. And with that you can have peace of mind.