I’m not supposed to write about what happens in the sessions but this I just have to share because it is too funny.
“I’ve changed so much as a result of analysis!” I said. “I could have never imagined that instead of a favorite bar I’d have a favorite gym. Or that I would want to buy a house in a quiet street. Or that I wouldn’t feel restless in the evenings and just prefer to stay at home reading.”
“That’s not analysis,” the analyst retorted. “You’re just getting old.”
Before people say, “Oh God, what a cruel analyst,” I have to explain that I think the analyst is simply mirroring my way of interacting back at me.
I think that analysts adapt their communication styles to patients a lot. For instance, N’s analyst is so quiet as to be almost catatonic. Mine, however, is gregarious, exuberant, he interrupts a lot, waves his hands about, and is very loud. And I don’t believe this is at all natural to him. He just has to be this way with me because if he just sits there while I perform, no work will get done. The poor guy must be exhausted after these sessions because he’s a Scot, and Scots have a very different emotional range from Ukrainians.
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