"Actually I think my main problem is that my husband never actually loved me" said the raspy blonde woman while sinking in the reddish and leathery seat.
Lucy kept writing on her notepad, glancing attentively at her patient. "The more you make them feel important, the more they come back" Lucy said to herself.
Of course, Lucy knew that deep down she did not really care whether the aforementioned husband was having an affair or was a potential sociopath but psychology, as she learned it during her childhood sessions with Charles, was all-about make-believe:
Making those vulnerable men and women believe that you actually listen to them, making them believe that your advice is actually effective, making them believe that there is always a gateway to the problem they are meeting, making them believe that this gateway will likely be reached at the next session and most importantly making yourself believe that you are not like them, that you would be able to overcome those dire and dreary issues.
Lucy suddenly stopped her writing. What did this lady, this perfect stranger just said? "My husband never actually loved me" The earnestness of this simple sentence sparked a myriad of uneasy thoughts in Lucy's mind.
For the first time of her life, she surprisingly empathized with a patient's struggle. She did not admit to herself why and likely never will but this peculiar and most common issue seemed eerily familiar to her.
"What make you think that he never loved you?" Lucy inquired desperately seeking answers for her own predicament.
"You know, I think it lies back to our youth, back when we were young I was always the one seeking validation and affection from him. I remember that it was always me who made the first move since high-school. And my husband has always been quite assertive in the other spheres of his life."
"Have you tried talking with him about your relationship and the toll it generates on your mental health?"
"I don't think such a thing is possible with my husband. He is a pig head. Actually, I think that I can't recall the last time we had a real conversation. He fills all of his time with his stupid golf. I can't tell how neglected I feel."
"If his behavior is such a nuisance for your well-being why don't you consider breaking up…" Lucy shook while pronouncing this mere suggestion "…at least for a short time?"
"I can't imagine doing that. I have a child with him! Besides, living without him seems completely foreign to me. And I like to think that while he certainly doesn't love me, he can't live without me either." The middle-aged woman plainly answered.
"So would you say that you are trapped in a kind of vicious spiral?"
"I think this is a quite fitting image" she smirked.
Lucy held her breath for a few seconds trying to recollect her thoughts. In front of her was this stranger, this tired and wrinkly woman who, strangely enough, now appeared to her as a bitter doppelganger of her own troubled psyche.
Lucy knew she was supposed to help this woman, to give her directions, advices, "food for thought" but how could she be able to do so when she herself had no clue about her own, oddly similar, concern.
"How do you plan to improve this situation with your husband?" Lucy asked
"I don't really know. I figured that maybe you could give me some advice"
This blunt answer made Lucy realize the irony of this peculiar situation. She indirectly asked her patient for help regarding her own predicament. Lucy suddenly felt deeply ashamed. Usually, she would have already been able to cook up an elaborate half-truth and swiftly deliver it, but now here she was helplessly trying to ease her own insecurities, seeing herself through this woman's testimony.
"Maybe you should just accept this situation and move on" Lucy could not believe what she just uttered
"You mean, there is nothing I can do to get out of this mess" the woman replied, slightly puzzled by Lucy's apparent seriousness
"As much as it pains me to admit it, sometimes in life we find ourselves trapped in unpleasant, even tragic situations. But the catch is that, as you have certainly realized, we don't actually want to get out from those hardships. Why we don't want to escape those predicaments will always remain a mystery to me, maybe we secretly find beauty in this silent and dreary suffering, maybe we try to lure ourselves into thinking that it will change one day, maybe this lack of a satisfaction finally become a part of us that we don't want to let go. A friend of mine once told me about the mythos of Sisyphus. This Greek legend about a man who is eternally condemned to roll a boulder up a hill. I think that in a sense, we are all a bit like Sisyphus when we carry the weight of our anxieties and disappointments. It is not pleasant to have them but heck, without them would we still be ourselves?"
"So you are telling me that I should just move on. Do you think it is easy to cope with living with someone who keeps ignoring you, who treats you like a burden and who doesn't even look at you!" the woman erupted
"Trust me, I know those feelings. The thing is that I could perfectly give you some useless advices, the same kind of junk you would read in Psychology today. I could even give you a prescription for some medicines that would do nothing but numb your pain. But I don't want to do that to you. You see your story moved me in many ways and I could not bear the thought of lying to you." Lucy confessed
"Alright if you don't want to help me, I think I will have to go find another therapist and to be honest I think that you also need one!" The woman shouted while bursting out from Lucy's office.
Lucy remained alone in her white and plain office; ordinarily the sentence she just heard would have caused her short-tempered self to go mad but this time the odd irony of this suggestion made a smile appear on her face. It was neither a smile of happiness nor a smile of amusement of course, but rather a brazen and defiant smile of resignation.
Lucy knew that even in the face of despair and lovesickness, her strong will shall remain intact.