“In the idea of ​​suicide there is hope for something better.”Unknown author The small hall gradually filled with people. Those who came here knew each other and therefore did not stand on ceremony with their greetings. They paid more attention to the comfort of their seats and therefore carefully selected chairs before moving them to the middle of the room and sitting down. After some time, an elongated oval formed in the center of the hall, at one of the poles of which was an obese young brunette with a twitching eye. He took a noisy breath, cleared his throat and began to speak, glancing left and right, as if using a metronome to mark time into rhythmic segments. “I will introduce myself for those who came here for the first time today.” In general, our circle is quite closed, but sometimes unfortunate circumstances happen, like what happened the day before with Veronica - she felt better and decided to stop treatment. Of course, by doing this she not only jeopardized our integrity, but also violated clause 3 of the collective agreement, which states that therapy is not symptom-based and relief of the condition cannot serve as a sufficient basis for its termination. Thus, she was forever deprived of client support and, in the event of a recurrence of the disease, she would be forced to endure the peculiarities of her therapist alone. Unenviable fate. But this has its advantages - we are accepting new members into the group who will reveal to us fresh details of the therapeutic relationship. “I hope,” he asked with alarm and, twisting his whole body, fixed his gaze on his closest fellow member, “you remember the main rule.” our society - no intersections? Do you remember that each of us should have different therapists? “Of course, I remember!,” the one they addressed responded with some resentment, “my therapist, firstly, lives in another country, and secondly, he belongs to to another biological species, also listed in the Red Book! Therefore, I am inclined to consider my situation unique, even if my favorite pattern - xenomorphotherapy - has recently become quite widespread among people who are disgusted with their own kind. I’m already starting to slowly hate you too. The presenter’s gaze turned to the pale beauty, who was looking into the small mirror as if it were broadcasting the latest news from the lives of angels. Feeling a suspicious gaze on her, the girl turned even paler and leaned back in her chair and said that her therapist had died long before those present in this room were born. “I communicate with him through an astral connection, which was transmitted to me by my mother is coming of age. He recently told me about his erotic countertransference. Needless to say, I immediately trembled. He advised me to commit suicide. Oh, it's so unethical to keep him waiting. However, I am afraid that he has other clients. In the end, my mother too...,” here the young lady looked down and prepared to lose consciousness. “I introjected my therapist when, during the conflict phase of the separation stage, he forbade me to have my own opinion and now, at every opportunity, I plunge him into the hellish abyss of narcissistic elevation,” said the bald, bespectacled fat man and added, enjoying the effect produced, “and, besides, my mother told me to do this with strangers.” “Great, it looks like we have a wonderful company,” the presenter said with satisfaction, shooting at those gathered with a series of piercing glances, “ a wonderful company for the implementation of our main mission, namely, preparing for the coming of the ideal therapist, who, once appearing in the world, will forever rid it of the bitterness of imperfection. But it is worth remembering that the ideal therapist is not given to us initially, but rather is built in attempts to make him a tool for healing each specific ailment. And that’s why we gather here in order to apply complementary touches to his universal portrait with our pain and joy. Here are everyone's protocolsmeetings! - he shook an impressive pile of paper over his head. - After the final image is completed, we will not even have to cast spells and mantras to implement it - it itself, under the weight of its perfection, will collapse into the world, since the heavens cannot bend indefinitely. Our neuroses and character disturbances will be crushed under its healing weight, conflicts and dysfunctional defenses will be compressed into internal supports and external muscular frames, relationship problems will suffocate and the negative feedback loops that support their logic will consume themselves. We will become slimmer and cleaner, some will even stop bleeding from the nose. - One problem, the collection of signatures in favor of the required qualities has almost ended and we are forced to tighten the requirements for their attributions. In this regard, I ask those present to speak strictly in turn and carefully chew the words before sending them for assimilation by the group. This message had the opposite effect on those gathered and for some time the roar of voices grew to the size of the room, absorbing the space and stealing the atmosphere. - And mine yawns! I don't want him to yawn! When he opens his mouth, in the eighth molar on the bottom left I see a miniature camera and a voice recorder, on which he records our sessions, so that he can later discuss me with his cynical colleagues! - And mine sleeps all the time! He is silent all the time and ignores my wishes for a good awakening! And I have the right to know what dreams he sees in my presence, perhaps it is in these dreams that my rejected complementary identity is located. - So my therapist leaves the office for the entire duration of the session, leaving in his place a rather cheap and clumsily made scarecrow that stares at me with its black eyes made of buttons and I cannot turn it towards the wall, because the chair on which it sits is securely nailed to the floor. I practice avoiding this gaze and as a result - amazing joint flexibility and elastic obliques. - My therapist hits me because I strongly resemble his ex, who cheated on him with the postman and sent a breakup notice from the post office where he served! - I work as a taxi driver and my therapist sees me while I am taking him to a meeting with another client! I have to ask my colleagues to create traffic jams on one-way streets. I know his clients include a hairdresser, a tax policeman, a priest and even a prostitute! Moreover, he has the shortest sessions with a prostitute. - My therapist does not allow me to cry. There is nothing in his office to wipe away his tears, just rough plaster walls and wooden furniture. I don’t have enough warmth, and he specially opens the window so that the words he sometimes utters are cooled to zero degrees, reaching my ears. - I want to brag - my therapist participated in a competition for the title of the most boring and dull in the profession and received the audience award at it. “I ask those present to pay attention to the economic component of our demands,” the group leader folded his arms on his belly, “namely in the part that concerns the fee for the session.” As you know, the ideal therapist refuses a fee for his services and, even moreover, whenever possible, he himself pays clients for the opportunity to be in their presence. Between the opportunities to mind his own business or immerse himself in the client’s story, the ideal therapist always chooses the second, because the client’s life is his life and besides this, he has nothing. That is why such a therapist is fluent in the depths of the client’s meanings and can easily give an answer to what may be good for this or that client; the ideal therapist is the capital Janus and the hundred-headed Gorynych, who continues to live with his clients even after the session is over.- B in our circles there are legends about the so-called Black Therapist,” a man who had been silent for the time being suddenly spoke up, smelling strongly of food and.