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Showing posts from October, 2012

"Therapy" by Peter Weissman

I wasn't against couples therapy on principle, and my wife and I were certainly in need of a referee, if only to come out of our respective corners and fight out loud. So we went into the therapist's office with some optimistic expectations and a grudging measure of goodwill.

Right away a smattering of small talk about New York City intended to put me at ease tested my tolerance. Yes, like Dr. Cynthia Levine and her lawyer husband, we'd all emigrated upstate, but hardly for the same reasons or from the same pool. I could tell by the way the psychoanalyst winced at my informal manner of speech, the spines of Freud, Jung, and Adler looking down on us from the bookshelves behind her, the diplomas on the wall, as we sat on the leather couch before she got down to business.

Out the plateglass window wall on one side, a barrier of suburban leaves occluded the New York State Thruway and our road back home, which would have been its dream significance; an oppressive room where a fi…