My therapist is very tall.

Today I watched from my couch vantage point as she looked for a book on a lower shelf in her office and was struck again by how tall she seems. She’s also thin, which makes her seem taller.

The book she was looking for concerns itself with a subject I struggle with mightily. By looking for it, she was essentially diagnosing someone else. “Why Dr. C (I used her whole name) are you doing a remote diagnosis on someone you’ve never met?” In her very therapist way, she neither confirmed nor denied that she was.

She offered to loan me the book. I demurred, figuring my uni’s library would have it. Turns out they don’t. I see her one more time before the end of the year. I could borrow it then. I could order it from interlibrary loan. I could buy it from Amazon who are offering free 2-day shipping upgrades today.

The Amazon thing is pretty funny. “Here, we’ll rush you a book on psychiatric disorders just in time for holiday gift giving!” Or at least that’s how it seems to me.

Honey offered to buy it for me if I’d read it in the presence of the person who was semi-diagnosed today by my therapist. Again, I demurred.

I wonder sometimes if I believe in my therapist, in part at least, because she is so tall and so calm. We all need something to believe in, after all.

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