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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=364360" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Consultation</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘How are you feeling in general? ’ he asked.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Pretty good most of the time then I get these occasional black periods when nothing makes sense and I fear the worst’ I replied.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Hmm, any suicidal thoughts? ’ he asked thoughtfully as if embarrassed to ask the question.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I thought for a moment.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Well, not really. No, not really’ was all I could say.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He made some notes at this point.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘And those times of feeling good’ he asked ‘what are they like? ’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Like the sun is shining and I feel on top of the world’.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘But there’s no real reason for that? ’ he asked ‘you just feel good and that’s it? ’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Yeah’ I replied.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘What about your libido? ’ he asked as if enquiring what brand of beer I liked.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Funnily that’s pretty good’ I said smiling.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He frowned.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Is there any guilt that you feel? ’ he probed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Do you feel guilty when you feel good or see others around you far less well off than you are? ’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘I guess I do. I feel bad that I can’t feel that good all the time and also sad for those worse than me’.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘But not real guilt? ’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘No. Not really’.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘So you feel bad at times but not guilty? ’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Guess not’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Do you ever feel bad about not feeling guilty? ’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He knew I was lost at this point and changed tack.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘When did you last masturbate? ’ he threw in.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Can’t remember’ I said startled.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He made some notes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘So, you feel guilty about masturbation? ’ he continued.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘No, not at all’.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘But you don’t remember when you last did it? ’ he said with a manner of distaste and disbelief.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Not really’.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At this point I did not know where all this was going.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Do you go to church? ’ he asked.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘No’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Why not? ’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Can’t see the point’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘So why are you here? ’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At this point the confessional ended.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I had been diagnosed as not having enough guilt or grief or angst to be normal and no further help or counselling could be offered.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But, at long last, I felt truly guilty.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So, perhaps, I will find redemption one day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Keig">David Keig</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=364360" data-title="The Consultation de David Keig" data-description="‘How are you feeling in general? ’ he asked.

‘Pretty good most of the time then I get these occasional black periods when nothing makes sense and I fear the worst’ I replied.

‘Hmm, any suicidal thoughts? ’ he asked thoughtfully as if..."></div>
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