Folks, it’s National Psychology Week, and according to the helpful people at SANE Australia (yep, a real organisation), this year 20% of Aussies will seek professional psychological help. Not me though; I had my turn last year.
Nowadays there’s far less stigma about seeing psychologists, which is a good thing, because you’re far better off getting help from a qualified counsellor than asking the barflies at your pub who’ll usually advise you to a) harden up, and, b) shout more rounds, more often.
Apparently 45% of us will experience some kind of psychological disorder in our lifetimes, and the great news is that the majority will find themselves back on track in no time at all. Unfortunately too many people still view psychologists as the ambulance at the bottom of the cliff, instead of the safety rail at the top.
Like the man who burst into a psychologist’s office crying, “You gotta help me Doc! Every night I blow my money on booze and gambling, and every morning I wake up absolutely wracked with guilt!”
“Alright,” replied the psychologist, “I’ll help strengthen your resolve never to drink and gamble again.”
“Like Hell!” yelled the man, “I just want you to stop me from feeling so guilty?!”
I’ve met a few psychologists, and they’ve all been dedicated, caring and insightful folk, but they do see the world in a slightly different way to the rest of us, eg: when a man, who was mugged and brutally beaten, lay bleeding on the footpath a psychologist rushed up and exclaimed, “Dear God! Whoever did this to you really needs my help!”
Unfortunately, I repeated that joke to a psychologist, and eventually he asked, “So tell me Greg, why do you find that funny?”
Well, on the bright side, at least he was listening to me.