The Education of a Therapist

My career as a therapist has afforded opportunities to meet many interesting people. The minute I’d be teased by the thought—“now I’ve seen it all”, the next person proves me dead wrong. I counseled people from various professions—doctors, lawyers, teachers—even other counselors, not the easiest cases.  I made it look so much fun, a few of my clients went into the profession themselves.  Although never a relish, I worked with a few borderline women and several male narcissists; Personality Disorders are tough. It was a narcissistic doctor who threatened my life during a marital session. Thankfully his wife was a witness—and such threats were not a common occurrence.

pealing the onion of our lives

Although not technically clients, after speaking at a church one evening where the service was being broadcast on the radio, two cellmates from the jail downtown called and asked me to visit.  I’d never done jail/prison visitation and did not care to start but after a few days I caved and went.  One man was a preacher/murderer, the other a serial rapist.  The former, after being sentence to die by electrocution, ended his life with suicide.  I visited the rapist for many years in several prisons—the Walls in Nashville being one.  That was a creepy place with the visitation room being windowless and the ceiling being barely above the hair on my head—which did stand up on more than one occasion.  I got past my initial anxieties the first meeting at the jail sitting less than two feet away from a guy who’d murdered a man.  I was thinking if he decided to try something again, I was toast before the guards would be back in the room. After sitting with those two guys, I just saw two men—sons, husbands, fathers—who’d made some horrid decisions.  Neither of their good Christian wives had any idea of what had transpired. On the radio I had mentioned that we contracted and manned the Heartline five hours a day on weekdays for the Nazarene church. Anyone in any of their parsonages could call the number anonymously.  The preacher told me in our first meeting at the jail, “If I’d had a place to call like that, I might not have done what I did”.  Powerful words about having a place to turn.

The proverbial ELEPHANT in the room

Then there was the brilliant young doctor who came down from a prestigious clinic up north.  He’d sought help elsewhere previously, yet called me to spend some time with him. I did a two day intensive seeing him several hours each day.  We connected and when we parted he was in a good place.  It was just two days later on a Sunday morning a call came saying he’d died in an accident on his way west to some of the locations we’d talked about.  Alcohol had been one of his vices and played a role in his demise. His death was devastating after the good connection we’d had. His funeral two days later was tough meeting his family.

mending a broken heart

Death was an ever present reality during the years I did the AIDS work. The loss of many men younger than me—I was in my late 30s—was an intense introduction to my own mortality. My times with those guys and their families changed my life forever.  Although laced with such pain, sickness, death and isolation for them and those who loved them, I am thankful for those years.

Being in Nashville, I've worked with a few Titans (the football kind) as well as musicians; pop, country and blue grass. They taught me success is not always what you might think it is.  Then there were the painters and sketchers who were some of the most interesting.  One painter would bring his portfolio each week with his latest paintings.  Our discussions centered around where the ideas for each painting came from.  Art critics called his style ‘whimsical’ which it was.  He despised the term in the beginning.  I still have one of his paintings that I’d fallen in love with at first sight.  It still makes me smile.

Her rendition of my ‘renovation services’

Then there was the husband in a marital case who had come to America from Iran as a teenager.  He put himself though schools becoming a renown doctor.  Coming from an Arab/muslim culture, I felt at times I was in a street market in Tehran haggling with him over a price.  One occasion he and I were having a lively discussion but as I caught a side glance at his wife, she feared we were about to come to blows.  I asked him if he was angry with me.  He said not at all.  I said the same and we continued the high-spirited banter. They were a fun couple to work with blending the two cultures—she being born American.

the envelope of the Hallmark card

Then there was a young woman who’d gone through a separation and divorce at the same time her infant daughter came along.  Adding to the marital issues, there was trauma from her family of origin.  TRUST was a huge issue for her.  She’d developed cynicism to an art form.  We worked together for a long time during which she would sketch out her internal drama.  Many times I encouraged her to sketch for children’s books, to use her talent for income.  After we terminated she put together a portfolio of many of her sketches and gave it to me.  I’ve included a few of them here.  When I got in touch to ask her permission to share her art after these many years, it was a chance to see how life had gone on.  Her daughter is around twenty now.  Both were doing well.  The tone of our conversation was in such contrast to the dark moods of years before.  It took a long while for her to trust males.  It was men who’d been the abusers, the one’s who had abandoned her.  I was ‘complicit’ just being a man.

When I called I did not find out if she’d utilized her gift as an artist.  Along with her sketches I’ve shared the envelope of a Hallmark card she sent a couple of years into our time together.  Making fun of Hallmark cards and the often sappy verse was a common rant.  Her note in this card said: “So, you were right—there ARE Hallmark moments.  I read this card and broke out into HYSTERICAL laughter!  Don’t know for sure which part put me over the edge: the glitter or that verse rhymed”.

Doing graduate education only offers we therapists a toolkit to enter the field.  We learn the most from our clients.  I am beyond gratitude for all I gained from thousands of sessions over the years.

Yes ‘Virginia’, there ARE Hallmark moments! (Not the client's name)  I was right about something years ago.

the last sketch