Recently, I thought that the professional relationship between my therapist and I was on the brink.
We may know the story of “Grizzly Man,” a man, Timothy Treadwell, that took care of wild Grizzlies in the wilds of Alaska. He took care of many grizzlies for many years but was eventually eaten whole by those he took care of. The reader may surmise where I am going with this.
My therapist confided that she has tried to ship me out on several occasions but could never find anyone willing to work with a psychopath. Neither part of that revelation surprises me. Saddens me, but does not surprise me. I’ve been preoccupied with my position on the spectrum of morality and it was my therapist that tipped off the answer – one that neither of us were especially prepared to accept.