I decided to take them up on the 3-session trial period for $40 each -- just to see if I liked the doctor they set me up with. The guy was nice enough, although I'm pretty sure I fell in his graces the first time we met, when I put two and two together about his last name and chuckled when I said "Pleased to meet you, Doc Martin!"
I went to all three co-pay sessions, but all in all, it didn't add up to much. I scheduled one appointment per month, because even with the co-pay that's all I could really shell out. The appointments were so sporadic that it became tough for me to distill all the month's shenanigans down to a few minutes -- not to mention analyze their deeper meanings -- and when each meeting was over I didn't really feel any more a sense of clarity than after I eat a burrito at Moe's.
|Welcome to therapy!!!|
You always hear the popular rebut to the American Health Care System: it's really sick care, and the insurance companies only want to honor your claims when you can prove you're actually dying, or something like that. This may be true, but when it comes to matters of the mind, it's really about intangible vs. tangible affliction. Yeah, some folks can by hypochondriacs -- but most who go to therapists are already sick, just not in the way that requires a band-aid.
So, I cancelled treatment for sole monetary reasons, and also knowing that I have other things in the world I can turn to for solace: my podcast, books, movies, video games, cigars, malls, amusement parks, YouTube.... But, of course, I also thought about all those people in the waiting room at the Doctor's office who may not be fulfilled at the end of a session, and aren't fulfilled by the simple pleasures in life that go a long way toward keeping people like me and you at bay, and who keep coming back to chase whatever ails them, and keep paying those ridiculous rates out of their shallow pockets. I just wonder what will happen when they can no longer afford it, and if, because they stop going, their intangible problems will some day become tangible -- in the form of them spouting off at a co-worker and losing their job, or wrecking a relationship, or walking into a crowded place with the intent to harm en mass. Not to get too apocalyptic; it's just that people's issues have a way of working themselves out, and those who actually motivate themselves to working them out in a quite room get brutalized for it at the check-out counter.
|My new guy|
How We Use Couches in Life
|The Professional 20s/30s|
|Sometime later -- when we just don't give a shit anymore|