Physical therapy

Chapter 1: The Doctor

In the spring of 2015, I had my first encounter with my therapist.

The doctor was introduced by my childhood friend.He is excellent, with a Ph.D. in psychology, a scholarship winner, has overseas experience, and has worked in a tertiary hospital for about six years. His hardware conditions make me feel secure.The doctor has a cheerful and sunny personality, knows how to speak, and behaves politely. The first impression is very good.Then, from the second week of our acquaintance, the doctor told me that he was willing to take the weekend off and asked me to meet him once a week and just talk about my own affairs.Then we settled on a one-year course of treatment.

Today marks the fifth month that I have been going to the doctor consistently.

September 9, Saturday, morning, 12:[-], sunny.

I stood in front of the door, adjusted my collar and cuffs a little, and bent my index finger to buckle the door.

"Doctor, I interrupted your rest."

Not long after, the doctor opened the door and saw me, so he invited me in. He looked like he had just woken up, wearing a red and white plaid shirt and jeans, holding a half glass of alcohol in his hand. The hot tea, as always relaxed and leisurely, made me feel very comfortable.

"Mr. Ye is always so early, sit down first, forgive me for not taking good care of me." The doctor frowned, showing a mouthful of neat and beautiful white teeth, "What do you want to drink? The same as usual?"

"No, I want Americano coffee today, thank you." I went straight to the sofa, found a side seat and sat down, stretched out my hand and pressed it under the Adam's apple, hooked the tie knot and pulled it down, closing my eyes and resting.After a short rest, my cheeks suddenly felt hot, I reached out to touch it, and grabbed the cup that was stuck to my face.

"Sad face, it looks like you haven't had a good week?"

"Barely." I held the cup in both hands, and took a sip of the coffee. It was bitter and smooth, probably hand-ground, and the doctor's skill is good.

"Comeon, say something, I'm your psychiatrist, you've been here so many times, and I've accompanied you out and been your babysitter, you should believe me, right?"

I swallowed the coffee in my mouth, and when I heard him say that being a nanny really made me want to laugh, I couldn't help answering: "Doctor, I think you have the talent of being a barista chef. If you can't do this job in the future, you can still go to coffee hall."

"You're kidding me again, don't go around the topic." He wrote and drew with folders and notebooks. The cursive font made it difficult for me to read, but the good thing is that he organized the documents by email and sent them to me every time.

"I don't know how to say it, it's still the same, with mood swings, insomnia and early waking up, I live like a walking dead. Go to work, get off work, eat, sleep." I simply untied the tie that was like a hanging chain around my neck, " I feel like I'm going crazy with the voice in my head, and when I try to accept or suppress it, it growls louder."

The doctor listened patiently, and slipped me a cookie from the cookie box beside him: "How was your three-day vacation, Morita Therapy* not getting you back?"

"It's not bad, it feels good physically and mentally, but...do you think Morita therapy is useful for workaholics?"

He lowered his head and flipped through the tests we had done before. I scanned and saw that he had carefully annotated every page. The doctor stopped writing and looked at me: "You have been working overtime for three whole days?"

"Yes, I will go to the company later."

Hearing my answer, the doctor angrily picked up a pen and poked my knee: "Well, I think you... are not obedient at all. You are a patient like me. Doctors don't dislike you. Speaking of which, I want to ask you a question, Did you take the car keys when you went out?"

I immediately reached out to touch the briefcase, then paused for two seconds, and suddenly realized something was missing—"Guess what, I took the car keys, but not the wallet."

The doctor quickly wrote a few notes and handed me a note with "mobile phone, wallet, car keys": "This is the second time this week you forgot such an important thing."

"Thank you, I...uh, I actually brought the car keys today, but frankly speaking, I came by subway, and I took one stop."

The doctor shook his head, and the ballpoint pen twirled between his fingers: "How do you feel about your work, are you energetic and able to concentrate?"

"The number of distractions is mostly. Although I am working, my efficiency is low, which is different from the past."

The doctor closed the folder solemnly. I couldn't help feeling a little anxious when I saw him like this, and subconsciously snapped his nails with a slight sound, and quickly pressed his hands on his knees.Then he put his hand on the back of my hand.Physical contact with people makes me feel very uncomfortable, even with long-time friends, I don't like to get too close to each other, but politeness comes first, I just frowned and didn't flinch.

The doctor looked into my eyes and continued: "The next question, I hope you will not hide it. I will not tell anyone, nor will it be recorded in the case, but you have to tell the truth, you have to confess .”

frank.

These two words immediately made me feel confused and trembling all over. I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn’t know what to say. I quickly retracted my hand and picked up the cup. My hands trembled like they were sifting chaff. Steady: "...No, I...I think it's better to talk about it next time, doctor, thank you for the coffee, I think I have to go."

The doctor sighed and handed me the blanket: "Then I have to ask another day. But you always avoid it, and your attitude towards yourself is really irrational at all."

I shook off the blanket and wrapped it up to keep myself from shivering in the summer, and was noncommittal to the doctor's words: "You're right."

He took my coffee, changed another cup of warm water, and sat next to me: "Don't be nervous, okay? It's not that serious, it's not as scary as you think. Come on, drink some hot water, but you're still Cut down on the coffee, it's not good for you."

I nodded without saying a word, tried to calm my breathing, and took a sip of warm water.

We were quiet for a few minutes, and then I broke the silence by saying, "I don't think I can... do anything well right now. I have a lot of emotional ups and downs, and being in contact with people makes me irritable and exhausted."

The doctor leaned towards me calmly, with a little distance. This detail made me feel respected.He looked at me for a while and replied, "You can't get a sense of accomplishment from something that you used to feel motivated and energetic. Instead, it makes you feel tired. This is a blow to you, am I right?" I felt understood, so I responded, but I didn't want to be seen through completely, so I swiped through Moments like an obsessive-compulsive disorder.

The doctor watched me refresh again and again, and suddenly opened his arms: "Mr. Ye, I know you don't like physical contact, but I don't know if you can accept hugs?" I looked at him, but there was no response, and I wanted to reject him with silence. proposal, so I continued to browse Moments with no new developments.

"Mr. Ye?" The doctor insisted.

"I can take it," I said.

The doctor came over and took my mobile phone, and gave me a not very hard hug.When he was about to let go, I suddenly stretched out my hand to grab his upper arm, and I felt my brain crash suddenly, those sharp words and self-criticism surged like a wave, as if more than a dozen people were standing together and arguing, and then Overwhelmed, hopeless and suffocated, the only thing I can do is to hug this driftwood tightly in my arms.I know only it can save me from the whirlpool.

.........

Consciousness returns.

"Mr. Ye, Mr. Ye?" The doctor probably felt pain from being pinched by me, so he couldn't help but pat me on the shoulder.

"...Sorry." I let go of my hand, fell back on the sofa exhaustedly, and explained to him a little helplessly, "It...uh, it's out of control again, I mean my emotions, it's like this every time, Very suddenly, any little thing can get me excited."

The doctor smiled, didn't say anything, and returned my mobile phone: "Mr. Ye, of course I know, I don't blame you, I just hope this hug can make you feel better. You can try to do some exercise, Stop looking at your electronics all the time, and don’t make yourself work overtime all the time.”

I nodded, glanced at the time on the screen, stood up and shook hands with him: "I'm going to work overtime, doctor, thank you for your time, I'll see you next week."

"What did I just say, you need a vacation." He reached out and patted my shoulder lightly, "Although I know I can't control you, but you have to pay attention to yourself." I responded vaguely and said goodbye to him .After I went out, I searched around the side of the road, but I didn’t see the familiar black Mercedes. Then I remembered that I didn’t drive, so I had to look for the subway entrance. Before I left, I glanced at the window of the doctor’s house. Seeing him standing there looking at me, he waved his hand with a Hexi smile.

I suddenly felt embarrassed and quickly hid in the subway station.

The author has something to say: * Morita Therapy (from Baidu Encyclopedia): Morita Theory requires people to accept and accept troubles as a natural human emotion, and not to try to get rid of them as foreign objects It, otherwise, will cause ideological contradictions and spiritual interactions due to "seeking but not getting", leading to fierce conflicts in the inner world.

Lintang's words:

This is a medium-length article. Although it seems that this chapter is discussing psychological issues, the essence is still a story of sweet, sad, and love!I hope you all have the patience to read on.This is the first time to write an article, the first time to post, if there is any problem, please remind me, I will make adjustments.

Regarding emotions, I have indeed been disturbed by depression, but everyone's depression is different, and I will exaggerate a little in the article.But Mr. Ye is not fragile at all, just look down.

:D Happy eating everyone!