Who am I?

To all of those people who read the title and thought that this must be one of those soul-searching and seriously philosophical posts, sorry to disappoint you, but I guess I'm not that type. To those of you who thought the same and exited, geeez... we need more patience, don't we? To those of you who are reading this and thinking, 'Oh my God! Not another one of her weird posts', Phbbt to you.

This post has to do with my "professional me". Or, well, since I don't seem to be having much of a profession at the moment, the aspiring professional in me. (Please note AT THE MOMENT in earlier sentence. I am merely unemployed by choice. It's not like people won't employ me or anything. Really.) (By the way, have I coined a new phrase? Unemployed by choice. :D) (I ramble too much, don't I?) (Do these thoughts inside parenthesis irritate you?) (Have you forgotten what I was on about yet?) (Are you wishing I've forgotten too?) (No such luck!) (Muahahaha).

The aspiring professional in me? Hmmm... then I am thinking - do I aspire to be the professional I was trained to be and am going to talk about now? Well, I seriously don't know... but that's not what this is about. OK, ok, I guess you must all be going - Get on with it now!!! So I will.

I've studied Psychology for five years of my life. That makes me a psychologist - with a specialisation in counselling. Now the point of this post is -- that people have so much trouble understanding what exactly a psychologist does. (Ahem. So do I sometimes... but then those are the philosophical things I am NOT writing about, y'know.) (Or maybe those thoughts are plain dumb, but... back to topic NOW.)

Scenario 1: Starring (?) old elderly aunt/grandmother's sisters / most old ladies above the age of... say, 40, and yours truly. My relatives inform the visitors that I am a Psychologist. Instant reaction = wow. And their heads swivel around to gape at me. Mouths slightly open, slack-jawed... you get the picture. (Right at that moment, how I wish I could have grown a couple of horns or tentacles or something.) Then they say something along the lines of, "Oh! That means you can read my mind." Accompanied with a nervous giggle. Then she, sometimes a he too, avoid me crazily everytime I am in the same room as them and when I am there, they speak guardedly, darting inconspicious (only to them) looks at me through the corner of their eyes. Excuse me, but I am not God, even thought I'd like to be. So how the heck can I read all their dirty thoughts? (Dirty 'cos if they were not dirty, then why would they be scared? :p) But this reaction is fun. Can play with it lots. :D

Scenario 2: They inform them that I am a Psych... Reaction: Instantly come and sit next to me and give me their hand, palm facing upwards. "When will I get a job/get married/get rich/whatevertheywant?" Oh my God! What the hell? I am a psychologist. Not one of those fakes who sit on the pavements with a parrot and a deck of cards!! I mean, please. Get a life! Sigh. This reaction is the most insulting really. After studying all those years, they equate you with an illiterate saffron wearing weirdo, and your heart sinks. Sinks, I tell you. Drowns.

Scenario 3: "She's a psych..." Reaction: "So what do you do exactly?" This one is so... well, just so something. I mean, I've been struggling to define what I do for God knows how long and this person comes and asks that to me to my face. If I wasn't such a strong person emotionally, I'd have a nervous breakdown or a fake epileptic fit right there in front of him. This question is right up there with "What's the meaning of life? Why are we here?" It basically has no right answer which I can reply with in one line. And I really don't think the question-asking-person wants to be saddled with a lengthy, winding answer, after which he still is not sure about what I do. So just let it be already.

Scenario 4: After being informed of my Psychology infliction. Reaction 4: "Oh! I have this cousin / neighbour / mother's second cousin's wife's neighbour's far off relative who is mentally retarded. Why does he bang his head against walls / throw tantrums / keep staring at one place for hours?" In other words, the person is trying to ask me - why does he behave like he's mentally retarded? Hello! Missed the bulletin, didn't you, aunty?

Scenario 5: "She's a ... " Reaction: "That's interesting." Then they ignore you for the next two hours and you're wondering what category they fall in. Then they come and sit next to you... "You know, I was wondering... I mean, you're a psychologist and all... so you must be intelligent. You know, my daughter, Blank, she has such a big problem. I mean it must be her age or something, but you know she watches so much TV and doesn't study/ doesn't cook... And then she talks to boys." The list goes on indefinitely. Translation - She isn't the bloody puppet I want her to be. Ultimately it comes down to, "Will you talk to her?" Hmmm... let's see. Now this is so much like you meet a heart specialist and ask him to check out your heart because it's been beating a bit weirdly for the past few days. Now would you do that? No! I mean, how can you remember all the problems you're having with your daughter only when you meet a psychologist? And please, what will I be able to do in one talk?

I'm done ranting. Really. Enough of this now. There are people who react differently too, like people who are genuinely interested, but right now I've worked myself up into righteous anger + indignation, so enough.

Oh, and as a last note, psychologists are people who help you help yourself. They are not miracle workers. They are not magicians. They are not crystal ball owners. They're just normal humans who are trained to help you with your problems and who make you comfortable with life in all its complexity. If you're still thinking what exactly psychologists are, think of us as angels... ;)