How nuts is your shrink?

If, like me, you have many reasons to be less than secure and self-assured, and like me, you are far from stable even on your best days, don’t for a moment imagine a psychotherapist will be of more help than a physiotherapist.

I have never fully recovered from reading the dissertation below, delivered in 1992 by Richard P Bentall, professor of clinical psychology, who is the recipient of awards from the British Psychological Society.

“It is proposed that happiness be classified as a psychiatric disorder and be included in future editions of the major diagnostic manuals under the new name: major affective disorder, pleasant type.

“In review of the relevant literature it is shown that happiness is statistically abnormal, consists of a discrete cluster of symptoms, is associated with a range of cognitive abnormalities, and probably reflects the abnormal functioning of the central nervous system.

“One possible objection of this proposal remains — that happiness is not negatively valued. However, this objection is dismissed as scientifically irrelevant.”

I defy anyone to be stable, secure and self-assured after a few years of this kind of shrink think.

An ex-wife insisted I visited a psychiatrist in an effort to improve me as a hubby. I walked into his house, he looking rather like Leo Sayer, and I could see his eyes light up. Glancing around at his art collection of Hirsts, Emins and other popular favourites, I realised that perhaps he was looking forward to this session rather more than I was.

Anyway, not wanting to disappoint, I made up a twisted tale of increasing weirdness about my need to wear my mother’s clothes at night, being too frightened to go inside a chemist shop, nightmares about squirrels, etc.

Eyes glistening, he lapped up every detail of my little problems and booked me in for multiple appointments. But I had bored myself at the end of session one, couldn’t face another, and gave up the chase to make more of a fist of my life.

Did you have an imaginary friend when you were a child?

Mine’s still around. He hasn’t aged. He is still hyper-critical of everything I do, as paranoid as ever, still controlling and dismissive and with the same self-righteous, overbearing attitude. His voice is in my head at all times, scolding my every error, ungracious and belittling about any minor success I may occasionally have.

Anyway that’s another tidbit I told my psychiatrist, at our only meeting, in order to make our session more interesting and memorable for him.