Sitting in a comfortable leather armchair, I lean back and analyse what I have just been told.
Helping people with their problems and helping them to be solved is what I do best.
When I was young all of my friends would always come to me for advice or just to talk if something was bothering them. I guess you could say I'm a good friend, if you don't pay attention to my weird personality. But all of this is hidden as I relax in this large leather chair, Pad on my lap, pen in my hand, moving quickly across the page, scribbling down notes, trying to analyse what he has just said.
As you probably guessed I am a
Psychologist or if you can't understand that, in simple terms I am a shrink. Sitting here, for the second time in my early career, I am still in university , studying for my degree. Now is a practical to use what I have learnt so far. This is the second time Mr Johnston has come to see me, with my sweet
reassuring smile and approachable
manor, he tells me all his inner secrets, so I can help him get through his many issues. I didn't pick this
career path just for the money, though
that's not a bad thing, getting the huge house, cool car. I look around the room, the colours, make me remember the great times
Weezie and I had on our trip around the world, and how I had gone with Nancy to England to study and go to a
prestigious school. Looking through the window I remembered all the things that I had done before now and thought about where I wanted to go. Oh well, I'm here now, I'm going to make the most of it.
He knew it was coming, these things come with the job, the territory. I reach to the small wooden side table on my right and picked up seven pieces of seemingly blank pieces of paper. I now said " Mr. Johnston, Its time to analyse the ink blots!
Whoo!" I knew this was his favourite part of our sessions."You know what to do, Jack" I said as I flipped over the first piece of paper "Its a monkey riding a unicycle" he said with a smile, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. I then flipped the second, "He looked a bit shocked then said "Its a.... Its a gun, lying in a pool of blood" he stuttered. I flipped a
third, "A monkey holding a banana" He said a smile spreading across his face. This guy really likes monkey's, I thought as I scribbled these comments down on my pad, to analyse later. The fourth card, his look saddened, "Its Sassy, my old dog", the
fifth and sixth were also monkey's, though this time, one had a sling shot and one in some sort of tree. The seventh, even shocked me, "Its me, with stuff on my hands and, what is that, a knife on the floor, so that stuff must be blood" he said then burst into tears. I spent the rest of the hour comforting him and trying to calm him down. He went through four boxes of tissues. At the end of the session as I said good-bye, I thought, I have never seen a man open up and cry before. Wait, I have never seen a man do either. I thought of the monkey's and the blood. Not to be mean, but you can really tell why he needs to be coming to a person like me.
Though I may take another path, you never know
