"Defective copy": the excerpt
"Defective copy": read excerpt
"Depression is a fucking event!" My goodness. My new psychiatrist behaves like a pop star. Confident, he sits behind his desk, in front of him a bottle of Bionade and on the face a rather complaisant Niels-Ruf-Grinsen.
That confuses me. I know Bionade and Niel's reputation from the real life, both of them have lost nothing in my psychiatric practice.
In my psychiatric practice, I expect something less modern. I'm not sure what to think of all this, so I'm wondering if it could lighten the situation by telling my thoughts to the doctor.
"They're a bit like Niel's call, just a little asshole."
Look, loud it sounds more like an insult than a funny comparison. He finds too.
I start rowing: make sure that I think Niel's call is basically very intelligent, just very much present, and that, my new psychiatrist, of course, is not as rudely as complacent as Niel's reputation, on the contrary, it has also rather something to do with his self-assured demeanor, the swift tie to the pink shirt, with the teen shaved head, and in general I find his way of expressing himself, rather unconventional, which does not have to be bad at all, and hey, if depression it's a fucking event, it's, um, cool.
But I would like to resell my tickets for this event on eBay, if that were the case? It's not working. That's why I'm here. Here again.
Because I have anxiety attacks again, and I'm sad, and this fear makes me even more shitty and even worse sad. A so-called fear spiral. The fear of fear. I already know everything, I know well.
Theoretically, the popstar psychiatrist knows all that, just not me yet. On the other hand, I am very familiar with his practice and his receptionist. That gives me a clear home advantage.
New tears, new old fears and new psychiatrist
My counterpart is the substitute for my first psychiatrist, Dr. med. Kleve. She has known me for a year, my story, my suffering, my fear spiral and my tears, she does not know Niel's reputation, and she drinks water and looks very interested and stern. Miss Dr. Kleve liked me very much. Apparently she also liked her husband very well, because she has been in maternity protection for a few months now.
The happy event was already announced a year ago, at that time I was very happy for them, I was, like many beginners, the opinion, in a few months anyway no longer need.
Tschüssi, Dr. med. Kleve! Good luck and have fun with the little rascal, in your job is certainly educated on the very best, hahaha, we both will probably not see each other so quickly, hahaha, well, that's better, is not it, hahaha. And here I am. A year later, even room, new tears, new old fears and new psychiatrist.
I am a big friend of razor-sharp diagnoses because the promise of healing. They pretend that the problem is recognized and Mommy will take care of it now. Everything is fine again until you get married!
For me personally, for example, a leg that has to be amputated for the sake of a razor-sharp diagnosed illness, much better than anxiety attacks, which no one understands and therefore can not be cut off, eradicated, sent over the Jordan. But that's the point. Although I still have both legs, but stuck in a new anxiety spiral.
It's as if you win sauteure tickets for a concert on the radio you do not feel like doing. Depression is like a Madonna concert: really a "fucking event". However, a shitty and unnecessary "fucking event". So the pop star psychiatrist understands something about his job.
I am insecure, anxious, powerless
That suits me well, because I am insecure, anxious, powerless and replete with superfluous self-knowledge of every color, which I collected and petted and pumped back and forth in one year of psychotherapy in my head.
I was good. I've been taking antidepressants for the past 12 months, sorting my life, being good to myself, trying to "feel more", and damn, for the first time in quite a while, I'm really happy, even happy. And in those miraculous times of my almost virgin contentment, in the stage of a delicately sprouting happiness, the stupid dumbass enters fear among the non-amputated legs and throws me over and laughs at me.
So I'm serious: I'm ready to take a hard-hitting and also shaky diagnosis in receipt. I mean, I'm really ready. To receive you. Like the Church Host, thin and tasteless but invincible.
And the pop star psychiatrist looks like he has the stuff and the eggs and the desire for a top diagnosis. The only problem is: He has no idea about me. He does not know about the general history of my twenty-seven years, the special story of the last year and the catalyst for all the cloying shit.
Well, it looks like I can not get out of here in ten minutes. The pop star psychiatrist has time, his almost full Bionade promises that too - so to a new one.
Sarah Kuttner reads "Deficiency Copy": audition
To hear the audio file, click the play icon.
"Mängelexemplar" Sarah Kuttner 272 pages Publisher: S. Fischer 14.95 Euro
"Defective copy" - audiobook read by Sarah Kuttner Publisher: Argon Verlag Unabridged author reading 5 CDs Total running time: 317 minutes? 19,95
Both from March 11 in the trade
