Smell Ya Later, Houston
So guess what? The Beyoncé and I are moving back to Denver, from whence we came. In 17 days. We’ve both given notice. We’ve posted it on Twitter and Facebook so you know it’s o-fficial.
The Beyoncé and I, as it turns out, have fundamentally different approaches to the process of moving. I prefer to do as little work as possible and hire packers and/or movers. The Beyoncé insists that the entire thing be a DIY project, and not in a sexy hipster, devil-horned-crocheted-cap sort of way, either. Oh no. Read on.
Since I don’t see patients on Mondays I was tasked with procuring cost-free cardboard boxes. I had already magnanimously agreed that a) we would pack our own shit and b) we would use U-Haul to schlep said shit. Feeling quite impressed with my ability to compromise, I headed out this morning on a quest for boxes.
I courageously went to two liquor stores, one grocery store, and Office Motherfucking Depot. And what did I get for my trouble? Blank stares, uncomprehending gazes, a little bit of drool, and NO BOXES. After this unstinting bitchazzness, I called The Beyoncé to inform him that I would no longer be scrounging boxes like a common, well ….box-scrounger. Oh no, not this queen.
I then spent 45 minutes driving in circles in downtown Houston, trying to echolocate the U-Haul store using sonar clicks and trills. Bupkes! GoogleMaps had failed me utterly and all seemed lost when suddenly arose the U-Haul sign, like a great orange beacon against dark stormy seas, luminous on the horizon! After much careful deliberation I emerged victorious, my car full of boxes of varying handy sizes. I even got tape. Impressive!
When all this broke-dick tomfoolery is finally over, we will be in Denver. The Beyoncé has hisself a pretty cool job, and I will be doing the same sort of long-term care stuff I’m doing now, only for a smaller company.
I will miss Houston-I recently rekindled some friendships with people I’d known way back when I was in gradual school in Lincoln, NE and I’m very sad to have to disconnect from these awesome people AGAIN.
And of course there’s the truly hawesome Houston Twitter community….far too many to name individually….which has led me to several incredible friendships I wish I had more time to develop. I’m hopeful that living in a more hospitable climate with close proximity to mountains, skiing, and did I say mountains? will lead to LOTS of visits from our Houston friends.
Houston has really grown on me, and not like some kind of post-Ike mold, either. When we first moved here I thought it was all noveau-riche bitchez wearing fancy jeans and driving Lotuses. And it kinda is. But there’s a lot more to Houston if you can look past the wretched excess, hurricanes, and stifling humidity. There’s a vibrant arts community, tons of museums, cool ethnic neighborhoods, accessible professional sports, some of the best restaurants EVER, fascinating history, and lots of economic growth. Good stuff.
I will miss this place. I will miss these people. It’s my belief that nothing lasts forever, and if it’s meant to be, our paths will cross again. May the silver go-go boots of GirlJesus™ bless you and keep you all the days of your lives, y’all.
Reinventing Dr. Ding
Don’t worry, chilluns. Dr. Ding ain’t going anywheres. I remain as obdurate, apophenic, and (according to me dear Irish mudder) “raunchy” as ever.
I just stumbled across this cool post on the subject of grieving at ReinventingErica and wanted to share it with y’all.
I discovered Erica O’Grady (note: good Irish name, by the by) on Twitter, and while I confess to not always being 100% sure of what it is she exactly does, I know enough about Social Media to cleverly deduce that she’s a big kahuna. Giant mojo hand here, people. Check it out.
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RIP Fabulous Moolah
I can’t believe it. Just yesterday I was going to do a very clever play on words w/my “moolah” nugget over on the right and so I came home and began looking up The Fabulous Moolah of pro wrestling fame. She was the winningest professional athlete ever. In any professional sport. Period. And then she up and dies Friday night.
Dr. Ding is going to stop Googling people for a while, just to make sure there’s no causal relationship between said Googling and, well….you know. Taking a dirt nap.
Years ago BUST magazine did a lovely piece on The Fabulous Moolah’s life and legacy. She had flaming red hair, performed well into her eighties, and was one tough bitch in the ring despite being hampered by the indignities of pantyhose coupled with gold lame wrestling costumes with pointy boobies. You can read more about her amazing exploits here and here.
You will be missed, Fabulous Moolah. You made the world a brighter, sassier, more inspiring place.
Dear Dr. Ding
Oh Dr. Ding:
I have lost two family members within the last 5 years. One I was close to, she was my older brother’s ex-wife, and I’m taking her death pretty hard because she was like an older sister to me when I was younger. The other was an uncle I didn’t know well at all, but his death is ripping my family apart because no one knew he was sick with cancer or had even heard from him in like 6 months. Every time I talk to my parents they’re just in shock and beating themselves up because no one got a chance to say goodbye. I almost feel like watching their pain is worse than mine about my ex-SIL.
I was “downsized” at work three weeks ago, which is a mixed situation because the pace was crazed. I can’t say I miss the job itself, but it was decent as jobs go. At least I have some freelancing work lined out, but no benefits/401K, so I’m stressing about when my Cobra runs out. On top of all this, I just found out that a guy I dated for a few months about a year ago just got married to someone who looks just like me. I know it’s stupid, but this last one is what’s keeping me awake at night. When I’m not crying about my ex-SIL, I’m obsessing about my ex. I should be looking for a new fulltime gig but I feel like curling up in a ball and crying. Anything instead of this awful feeling. I’ve been eating a lot more starchy foods too, but I think that’s not my biggest problem right now.
I feel lucky that I have good friends. They have been supportive of me through these last few weeks, which have been hard. I don’t know what to do next. How do I get the grieving over with? I read your posts on grieving and I know it’s what I need to do, but aaagh. I’m so tired. Exhausted. Are there shortcuts? (I think I know your answer)
My friends all say I need to give myself time to bounce back from my losses and that the fact that my ex married my lookalike is mere coincidence. I don’t know. I think that it’s more like synchronicity, but I’m not familiar with that concept except that it says coincidences have meaning to them.
I feel I’m on the verge of something. A breakdown? (Joke!) A major career change? It’s just a feeling I have. I’m afraid to make decisions right now.
Ideas?
Lost in Atlantis
Dear Lost:
Christ on a cracker, woman! You’ve got a lot going on. Let’s make a list, and proceed accordingly.
- You’re actively mourning the loss of your ex-SIL.
- You’re having to contend with your parents’ mourning, which in effect is vicarious grief.
- You just lost your job.
- You just lost your benefits.
- You just realized your ex has moved on, which is another loss.
- You’re exhausted.
- You have this nagging feeling that there is some kind of meaning to your experiences that you’re not seeing.
Dang. No wonder you’re asking Dr. Ding if there are any shortcuts to grieving! No wonder you feel like lying on the sofa, watching daytime TV, obssessing about your ex, and eating Spaghtetti-Os straight out of the can. Grief does strange things to the physical body, and exhaustion is a common experience for people like yourself who are experiencing multiple stressors in rapid succession.
Your friends are pretty wise. Of course your life just hurts right now, and if you were hurting over just one or two things, you’d probably be “bouncing back” and not writing me. But see #s 1 through 7 above. You deserve to honor your own feelings for a moment, before you rush out and get another rat race-type job.
Take stock. Can your full-bore job search wait for a few weeks? Days? A month? I’m assuming you’re still afloat financially and don’t have kids to take care of, or serious health problems to consider. Give yourself a time limit, but be sure you give yourself time. If you allow yourself to be emotionally honest in the here-and-now, you will save yourself a lot of time and agony later on when the same old issues resurface. Put more poetically, embrace your demons so they don’t bite you in the ass. Because they always will.
Your grief is your grief, your parents’ grief is their grief. As hard as it is, try not to get too wrapped up in their feelings right now. Offer support, make sympathetic noises, but if you find yourself getting really wrapped up in their pain to the point where you’re not sure if it’s theirs or yours, ease back. Don’t pick up the phone or agree to visits quite so readily. They’re hurting too, but you don’t have to do their hurting for them or try to take care of their feelings.
Did you have a chance to attend your ex-SIL’s funeral or memorial? Have you visited her grave site or left flowers? Made a donation in her honor to a worthy cause? Lit a candle or said a prayer for her? It may sound cheesy, but these rituals evolved for a reason; they connect us to something greater than ourselves, and ultimately remind us that love is what is eternal. Love is stronger than death, but this is notoriously tough to remember. Death rituals help us make sense of the losses that feel overwhelming and engulfing, and they allow us to move through difficult emotions more fluidly by providing literal markers along the way. If you haven’t already, try commemorating your ex-SIL’s life in a way you feel would honor her.
Although your job loss is a problem in some ways, you’re very wise to recognize that it’s also a possible blessing in disguise. In every crisis lies an opportunity for change and betterment.
God, I sound like a fortune cookie. But believe.
Ignoring my predilection for Chinese food for the moment, it sounds like your last job, and possibly the ones preceding it, was a clusterfuck. It’s a technical term. Trust. Unless you’re working in a literal life-and-death environment or, say, launching a rocket into space, there’s no reason to be exhausted by one’s job. Of course, even in the most satisfying of jobs there are going to be days that suck air at 400psi and leave you feeling like a wet sock, but if you’re drained and exhausted more days than not, for more than a couple of months running….something’s gotta give. I suspect you could use a change of venue, or perhaps you need to change your approach to work altogether.
Sometimes people don’t pay attention to those nagging thoughts like “Hmmmm….why are all the plants dead in this office? Why isn’t anyone shaking my hand? Is that guy in the tight pants for real? Did that HR lady just roll their eyes at my application?” When you do venture out on interviews, make sure you pay attention. Get some books, do a little research on the process of career change. If money’s tight, go to the liberry. Sometimes the job itself isn’t quite as important as the ease with which you can communicate with and relate to your work peeps. After all, you’re going to be spending 40 hours a week with these folks, so it’s important you’re not filing widgets with a bunch of folks you deem psychic vampires and malcontents.
The boyfriend thing; this one’s the dealbreaker, right? Just when you thought you’d gotten over the demise of that relationship, fucking whammo Batman, he turns around and marries your body double. Your instincts are good – that’s really unoriginal of him. But not unheard of. And it most likely has something to do with you and your Doppelganger resembling his mother than it does you having some sort of unredeemable personality flaw that renders you unfit for pair-bonding, which Dr. Ding suspects is your concern here.
Lie around on your couch. Watch crappy re-runs and ESPN kickboxing semifinals. Eat a couple pizzas, get it out of your system. But also make sure you start getting some fresh air and sunshine, a little exercise, and keep up with your friends. Gradually start adding some routine back into your life, which has been thrown into chaos by your losses. But don’t be in a hurry.
The Irish have a saying: those who take time to mourn, take time to heal. There can be no healing, in other words, without the grief. It’s a necessary thing, and not to be feared. If you embrace it, you can dance with it, but if you run away it will chase and eventually catch up with you. Let the feelings come, don’t resist. Breathe through them; oftentimes feelings of grief, if not expressed, seem to cause breath-holding, feelings of chest constriction, and in some cases, can even interfere with healthy lung function.
Last, you mentioned synchronicity. No easy answers there either, sista! I’m fresh out. The kicker with the whole acausal connecting principle thing is that the meaning of the synchronistic experience has to be determined by the individual. In other words, I don’t know why you’re having this nagging feeling that a sea change is brewing in your life, or what it portends for your future. But you do. Do you have a philosophy of life, a kind of spiritual belief system perhaps? If you do, use it. If you don’t, you might consider getting one.
I sometimes joke that at least 50% of my job duties take the form of permission-slip writing. It’s hard to give oneself permission to take a risk or make a change, but it’s a helluva lot easier than waiting around for someone else to tell us that we’re headed in the right direction. And fuckall quicker. You certainly don’t need my permission to take up aquaerobics instructor training or to apply to business school. But I’ll give it to you anyway.
So, Lost, you’re not as directionally-impaired as your name would imply. You need to slow down, let those feelings come through, no matter how icky and sad, and take care of yourself first. This means taking some time to give your life and your goals therein some serious thought. Nothing provokes clarity regarding one’s purpose in life quite like the loss of a loved one. Being gobsmacked by mortality is a sobering but potentially empowering experience. Dr. Ding is glad you’re looking at your situation not just as a series of negatives, that you’re insightful and introspective enough to ask some tough questions.
Image: click here for source credit.
I’m a lil’ pisst at Owen Wilson
By now everyone has doubtless gawked at all the Owen Wilson scuttlebutt about his alleged drug overdose/suicide attempt. Dr. Ding just wants it to be on the record that Owen Wilson was fucking brilliant in The Life Aquatic, by turns angelic, fallible, heroic, horny, and tragic; no easy feat to pull off as an actor. Equally awesome in The Royal Tenenbaums. I loved him in the movies he did with Jackie Chan. His peformances in Zoolander and Starsky & Hutch still makes me giggle, despite having seen each four times. He was even memorable in that stupid piece-of-shit remake they did of The Haunting of Hill House. I’m sure he’s done other movies in which he was terrific, like the Wedding Crashers, but the aforememntioned are the only ones Dr. Ding has actually taken time out of her thrill-a-minute life to see.
But back to my main point, which is that although I adore Owen Wilson as an actor I am really fucking pissed that he, Owen Wilson The Person, apparently tried to off himself or O.D. or whatthefuckever. Because the soul-body connection being what it is, if Owen Wilson The Person steps on a rainbow, it must necessarily follow that so too does Owen Wilson The Actor. And if this happens, I am without just that much less hilarity, aw-shucks inanity, cuteness, and brilliantly sardonic acting in my life, and frankly, dear readers, that would fucking blow.
It would fucking blow gigantic gelatinous chunks of vile, Chunky Sirloin Burger, Linda-Blair-Pea-Soup chunky-assed vomit.
Owen Wilson, I have revealed my true feelings here. I don’t feel particularly sorry for you or worried, I just want you to know that if you indeed had died I would have been goddamned upset about it. Please take all the time you need to get well, and please be careful and more loving with your life from here on out. Or what, you may ask? Or the world shall shudder ‘neath the hellfire of Dingariffic grumpiness sure to be rained down upon it should you pass from this realm before Fate has decreed it so, thus depriving Dr. Ding of her rightful future merriment in and appreciation of your many talents.
Although I firmly believe that the working-through of grief is ultimately what heals us from most of life’s maladies, I have absolutely zero desire at this time to experience it in regards to Owen Wilson.
I have no fucking idea how to end this post because I’m still so annoyed, so instead I’ll leave you with some of my favorite Zoolander dialogue, where he plays the supermodel Hansel.
Hansel: So I’m rappelling down Mount Vesuvius when suddenly I slip, and I start to fall. Just falling, ahh ahh, I’ll never forget the terror. When suddenly I realize “Holy shit, Hansel, haven’t you been smoking Peyote for six straight days, and couldn’t some of this maybe be in your head?”
Derek Zoolander: And?
Hansel: And it was. I was totally fine. I’ve never even been to Mount Vesuvius.
Burnout Questionnaire Regarding Being Burned-Out
Burnout Questionnaire About Burnout: Are You Burned-Out?
By Dr. Ding
aka Dr. Dementa
Please answer the following items “yes”, “no”, or using whatever series of expletives seems to best fit. Sample repsonse is indicated below. It should be noted that this inventory was compiled of non -face-valid items that are empirically derived. Certain questions may strike you as odd, or quite possibly even distressing. Ok, demented even. But remember, your responses to these items are completely confidential, and will only be released to your personal therapist, his/her supervisor, the consulting psychiatrist, your insurance reviewer, who no doubt is some mulleted wankster who knows half your neighbors, friends, relatives and coworkers and isn’t bound by the same confidentiality guidelines as even yourself. So, take your time and respond to each item as quickly as possible. Please write your answers legibly on a separate sheet of paper, and for God’s sake, please try not to drool. This contaminates the interpretability of the test. Have a nice day.
EXAMPLES:
Item:“I frequently find myself taking on additional tasks at work, just to challenge myself”
Sample response: “Fuck no!”
Item: “I feel often that life holds very little hope for me if I continue in this line of work”
Sample response: “Hell yes. What kind of dumbass do you think I am?”
Let’s begin, shall we?
1. I find my work as interesting as ever.
2. I would enjoy doing what I am doing for the rest of my life.
3. I have no desire to quit my current job.
4. After reading the above three items, I broke down and sobbed uncontrollably from the painful irony.
5. I like cheese.
6. Maybe you would like some cheese too.
7. Oftentimes I talk when no one is around.
8. Diagnosing patients is pretty much a crapshoot, on a good day.
9. When in session, I try to look directly at the client as little as possible.
10. I have difficulty getting out of bed in the morning.
11. I have difficulty locating my office.
12. I am troubled by thoughts of wanting to choke the living shit out of the consulting psychiatrist.
13. People can read my thoughts.
14. Between sessions I wear a little foil hat to prevent thought transmissions from, you know, them.
15. There is a conspiracy.
16. I am aware of my strengths although they include public nudity and eating coffee grinds.
17. Every day, my flatulence troubles me just a bit more.
18. I would enjoy a career as a florist.
19. I would enjoy a career away from this God-forsaken hellhole.
20. As a child, I never dreamed my life would consist of listening to people drone on about their so-called “problems”. As if panic disorder and coprophagia are “problems”. Yeah, right. Whatever.
21. Evil spirits possess me at times.
22. The spirit of Jerry Springer lives in my pants at times.
23. Most people just want to get laid and tell me about it.
24. My father wore a hat made of herring.
25. I could make a lot more money if I would show up for work.
26. During staff meetings I prefer to make miniature drawings of Elvis.
27. The phrases “That bothers you?” “Let’s talk about you” “I can see you’re hurting” and “What you feel is the most important” seem to come out of my mouth when I am trying to get an estimate on my car repair.
28. Secretly I would like to bathe in pudding.
29. I would be a psychopath if I were paid more money.
30. Drinking hard liquor until falling into a stupor makes me happy.
31. I have taken up golf.
32. Listening is just waiting your turn to talk.
33. My mother hosted parties where angry dwarves would play canasta and sing German opera.
34. I think that deep down, I am a very shallow person.
35. Most of my patients would say that I have a definite booger problem.
36. My house is overrun with small, perfectly-formed turds that answer to the name of Harry.
37. I would change careers, but I am Catholic and haven’t suffered enough.
38. One’s capacity to withstand pain is directly related to foot odor.
39. Lemmings seem to have the right idea.
40. Plaid pants are appealing.
41. I think that adult diapers, with the right accessories, can really enhance one’s chances for promotion.
42. My supervisees call me Hoss behind my back.
43. Constipation is a way of life for some people.
44. When I am uncertain about what to do with a patient, I just pretend I am a large green ottoman until they leave.
45. This profession was made for people who like tight underwear.
46. I was able to laugh, once upon a time.
47. Empathy is for the birds.
48. My written reports, although brief, contain many illustrations and diagrams of the interpretive dances I do in session.
49. I would do my own billing, but I only work with even or prime numbers.
50. Lighting fires would be an enjoyable hobby.
51. Sometimes I daydream about admitting myself to an inpatient unit so I wouldn’t have to worry about all this crap.
52. I never bargained for this.
53. Would you like to see my scar?
54. My bowels sometimes leave my body.
55. Other people, especially my colleagues, just don’t seem to understand my unique method of salting my patients.
56. You would smear shit on the wall if you had my office décor, too.
57. I think that 5 hours of sleep per night and 12-hour workdays build character.
58. I would kill myself if I weren’t looking.
59. I am about as mystified by the vagaries of hand lotion as I ever was.
60. My nose has a secret compartment.
61. Most people, given the chance, would change their identity and take up smelting.
62. When I reflect upon my most successful cases I am at times troubled by a shattering sense of failure.
63. I once dropped trou at a party hosted by Henry Kissinger.
64. I know the real meaning of the phrase “I’m a hootchee cootchee man” as sung by Bo Diddley.
65. The MMPI-2 is for sissies.
66. Lately my sweat smells like someone’s stanky drawers.
67. I regret most of the decisions I have made, especially the ones involving hand puppets in treating dementia.
68. I believe I have a special purpose, although I tend to confuse it with my laundry.
69. When a patient is relating a matter of great emotional impact that touches on some of my own personal issues, my preferred manner of coping is to stick my fingers in my ears and sing “lalalalalalala” until they are done.
70. My training consists solely of cognitive-behavioral approaches to existential crises.
71. Hamsters are intriguing and have inspired me throughout my career.
72. I always refer to support staff by the name of “Slappy”.
73. My first supervisor told me I was doing it all wrong, but I was really doing that on purpose, anyway.
74. Most people have a keen interest in figuring out ways to tell people to fuck-off, without using the word “fuck” or “off”.
75. I play air guitar only when I think I am going to get caught.
76. Sensitivity, schmensitivity.
77. I have taken to wearing several strategically-placed Kleenex in lieu of clothing on “casual day”.
78. I would enjoy telling people that I admire my own ass, but I am too shy.
79. At conferences, I try to look as opaque and disgruntled as possible.
80. It was twenty years ago today, Sergeant Pepper’s band came to play.
81. I am on a personal quest to bring parataxic distortions back into vogue.
82. When I speak to managed care representatives, I often pretend I too have no formal training or clinical experience, just for the fun of it.
83. My own therapist tells me that the voices are right.
84. When giving formal presentations, I enjoy livening things up with a little jig.
85. I see dead people.
86. I see dumb people. And the scariest part is, they don’t know they’re dumb.
87. The biggest influence on my supervision style was Benito Mussolini.
88. I think people are overrated.
89. I am severely troubled by my lack of black, tarry stools.
90. My relationships seem to end with one or more of the following: a) the sudden appearance of flannel pajamas, b) massive pyrotechnic explosions, c) a long car chase culminating in a 16-car pileup, d) an audible “pop!” and suddenly finding myself in the middle of the string section of the Berlin Philharmonic, or e) seemingly endless reenactments of Monty Python dialogue.
91. I am utterly amazed during the majority of my waking hours.
92. As a child, I enjoyed disemboweling my elders.
93. Secretly, I am thrilled to listen to the exploits of CPAs.
94. The last time I wrote a progress note, you were still in short pants.
95. Of all the things I’ve done, I regret having that therapy group for borderlines over to my home for dinner and drinks the most.
96. When in doubt, just yell “Hey! Snap out of it!!”.
97. If the above doesn’t work, try “Take it easy, cha cha”.
98. I feel sad that there are so few people in the bathroom when I sit there and make various witty remarks.
99. When I have trouble focusing, I just put on a jaunty French beret.
100. It looks like I dropped a television set down the back of my pants, thanks to years of back-to-back sessions.
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- https://progresivamente.org/
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- https://www.onbelaycounseling.com/
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- https://ascuri.org/
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- https://www.nmptap.org/
- https://askdrding.com/
- https://thekingsheadhouse.com/
- https://www.karadefrias.com/
- https://www.andros-hotels.com/
- https://www.lebanonecomovement.org/
- https://ohdsichina.org/