Struth Be Told with Justin Heazlewood
One of my favourite hobbies is giving friends advice that they should go and see a psychologist. I’m either a sucker for punishment, or a passionate advocate for mental health.
In my arrogant opinion, seeing a psychologist is the number one best thing you can do, period. It’s one of my most non-negotiable beliefs along with Vegemite does not belong in the fridge and it’s okay to like Lenny Kravitz.
My hobby has led me to see people in one of five camps:
— currently seeing a psychologist
— seeing a psychologist but don’t reveal everything
— would like to engage a psychologist but can’t find one
— had a bad experience and concluded therapy isn’t for them, and finally…
— those that have decided they’re kinda above the whole rigmarole as a rarified, elite-level, self-diagnosing category of human who doesn’t require such a convoluted, abstract walk on the dark side of the moon.
I do feel sorry for those who have had a sub-optimal experience. Perhaps good mental health requires a certain amount of luck (such as being born with the right family, place and time, am I right?). While mostly, technically, unlucky (in that I had a mum with schizophrenia), I have chanced upon two excellent psychologists. I saw Len in 2008 until his retirement in 2013. I found Nicole in 2014 and she is my spiritual mentor to this day.
So yeah – that’s 16 years of therapy (and counting). I credit it for everything that is good and strong and clear in my head and my mind and my gut.
Therapy is hard. So is going to the gym, theoretically. You flog your body until you ‘feel the burn’ and then walk away feeling lighter and fresher. Well, believe it or not, therapy is similar. You sit in a chair. You talk. You work parts of your brain that have long been asleep. You blow dust off the cupboards and drawers of your internal house and open them. It’s a spring-cleaning marathon, paced at 45-minute intervals.
Therapy plays the long game. It’s the opposite of a quick fix. There is a block of a problem. You want to chisel it into a sculpture that resembles yourself. You approach it in stages. It’s not like catching up for a coffee with a friend, but it’s not like going to the doctor either. It’s somewhere in between. A sort of netherworld of human relationship. Just like our dreams fit fascinatingly between reality and the subconscious – who is this expert stranger who takes your pain calmly at face value?
Psychologists don’t just listen. They acknowledge and validate. These simple intimacy mechanics are worth the price of the Medicare subsidised entry fee alone. I would wager that a majority of interpersonal calamities stem from the painfully simple omission of a most basic component of inter-human communication – actually respecting what another person has told you. Even a well-intentioned friend can give you the ‘amateur hour’ cut price histrionics of a pseudo-counselling mis-step.
Friends are often programmed to dispense advice, solve problems, find solutions and maybe even ‘talk you down’ from your modest soapbox of frustration. Yet, speaking for myself, their efforts almost always feel hollow. What I actually want is a light-to-moderate proverbial pat on the head followed by a philosophical ‘there-there’. If they’re feeling especially flush, they can add a larrikin-Aussie-streetwise equivalent of the oldie-but-goodie ‘that must be hard for you.’
My nan famously didn’t believe in counselling. Having never experienced it, she felt qualified to denounce it. Like so many in her generation, she experienced childhood trauma and didn’t spend a single hour talking it through with a professional. Nearly every family I know is riddled with estrangement and littered with grievances, blindspots and even awkward postscripts of last will and testaments being fought over to the grubby, petty end.
Heck, Metallica brought in a counsellor to sort out their issues, as documented in 2004’s sublime Some Kind of Monster. They say a band is like a marriage. All families have a marriage at their centre. Each and every member of your family tree should be making sure their emotional roots are in order.
How else can we find the time and space to host each other in the kitchenette of our conscious minds? Who wants to hang out in someone’s cluttered lounge eating stale nuts?
I know there is an unprecedented demand on our health system and many good psychologists have their books well and truly closed. All I can say is: I urge you to persist in finding one. Mental health is a priority that justifies unbridled tenacity.
Sometimes life is just easier if you never, ever give up.
Justin Heazlewood is an author and musician. His new book Dream Burnie releases 3 February. The Canberra launch of Dream Burnie is on Feb 11 at Smith’s Alternative and is set to be quite the soirée! Visit the Smith’s website for more info.
