28 Oct My “friend”, the therapist

Therapy, at heart, is a strange thing. Tell your most intimate problems and thoughts to someone you just met, because you can’t solve them alone. Someone who cannot be your friend, but listens to you like no one else.

Cry, reveal yourself at the beginning of the analysis, be so close to a bond of friendship and, at the end of the session, so far. Another detail: there are secrets that are not even told to friends. Only for the blessed psychologist.

There is affection, but not friendship. There is empathy, but not friendship.

Come on, therapist. There is so little left to the friendship itself. But, to be a friendship, I would have to break the dyad, the techniques. He would have to break the bond, so delicately constructed.

Whether making free associations, closing gestalts, changing unrealistic beliefs or analyzing reinforcements and context, it doesn’t matter, the therapist goes deep into the painful hidden truth that was already dusty.

In the end, we would like every friend to have a bit of a therapist, without judgment, with wisdom and with all ears. True friendship is therapeutic. And therapy is a sublime invitation to friendship. But this time, with yourself.

ps:I painted this picture!