Me, myself & my shrink

Me: Do you think we’re crazy?

Myself: Absolutely not darling. I think we’re quite the rage.

My shrink: If we look at the past few months, and how you’ve been feeling, I think that the diagnosis of mood disorder was right. I also think it is time to try new medications

Me: I’m pretty sure this guy is saying we’re crazy

Myself: Well he’s just another know-it-all Jew, darling

Me: Why is it that you have a British accent?

Myself: Haven’t the faintest idea. Now chop chop! Let’s leave this ghastly room and go back to the club

My Shrink: Do you think you are ready to commit to treatment?

Me: Wow. That sounds harsh. TREATMENT. I think we are about to get neutered

Myself: Sorry darling wasn’t really paying attention. I’m thinking about what we shall wear to tonight’s little soiree

Me: Well do to try to keep up. This concerns you to. I’m pretty sure these medications he keeps bringing up are really about you

Myself: In what way?

Me: The end of the affair. Off to the guillotine for you

Myself: End of the affair? You mean the bugger’s after my head?

Me: Bingo!

My Shrink: The medications are not going to change you. On the contrary, they’re going to allow the real you to come out. You will be able to enjoy a new kind of stability and your life will no longer be a cycle of ups and downs

Myself: Oh this is so boring. I feel like shooting myself. No pun intended

Me: I get the same urge every few months

Myself: But that’s the price my dear. No downs-no ups! And we do love those ups don’t we?

Me: Hell yeah!

My shrink: Over the past year, you have experienced two episodes of depression, one almost costing you your life. You might not remember it now that you are feeling better but I remember those weeks and months when you couldn’t even get out of bed and go to work. When you felt buried alive- you’re words not mine

Myself: I say this chap belongs in the loony bin not us! We simply chose to spend a few weeks in the country recuperating from the strain of belonging to high society. Even we need a break from all that jazz

Me: I’m not sure eating in bed for a whole month constitutes a trip to the country. Besides, you’re never there for the bad days. You always seem to fade away and the other guy comes along

Myself: You mean the gloomy Frenchman?

Me: Yup

Myself: I hate the Frenchman. That overbearing accent and “what does it all mean” rubbish

My Shrink: Perhaps it’s also time we speak about your alcohol consumption…

Myself: That’s it! Get up

Me: What?

Myself: Get up and leave now. This Heb has gone too far. I won’t have it.

Me: You do know we’re Jewish right?

Myself: Speak for yourself dear. I’m with the Church of England

My Shrink: How many times have you been drunk this past month?

Myself: Define drunk?

My Shrink: Ended up on a bench in the street or woken up in the bathroom

Myself: The bathroom? The bathroom? It’s called the wash closet. I say this joker is a philistine. Have we seen his credentials? Are we sure he is a Cambridge man?

Me: I need to give an answer

Myself: Well one can’t take these matters to heart. So we tend to have the occasional one too many drinks. Life’s too short my dear. Before we know it the Germans might be at it again

Me: I really wish you would live in the now. Anyway, I’m going to say more than ten times

My Shrink: I think that you might be an alcoholic

Me: I’m getting nervous over here

Myself: Where was this chap when we were in the trenches? Eh? Where was he when we were storming Gerry in the Somme? Sitting in that leather chair passing judgment on us. You know, I don’t even buy into this Psycho mumbo jumbo. Didn’t that Freud fellow have a go at his own mother?

Me: You’re right. We are not alcoholics. We’re drunks. And there’s a difference. Besides, we chose to be drunks. It’s a conscious decision

Myself: Here here. Finally some common sense

My Shrink: I know that you are worried that without the highs you’re writing will suffer. But I have learned over the years that one’s talent doesn’t fade. It finds its way past the medications and reappears more vital than before

Myself: Did he…Is he…I say old chum you’re not buying into all this are you?

Me: Well he has got a lot of experience

Myself: Loads! He’s ancient. Quite the antiquarian’s delight

Me: And this has always been about the writing hasn’t it?

Myself: My dear, without me you are bound to lose your wit, sarcasm and dry humor. Your writing will be as amusing as that Dershowitz fellow who keeps seeing Anti Semites in his sleep

My Shrink: I suggest you try the medications for a few weeks and see how you feel. You might discover that the pros outweigh the cons. I truly believe these medications will save your life

Three weeks after taking the medications

Myself: Vake Op! Vake Op!

Me: Who are you?

Myself: I um Hanz, the spezialist un I huve come to insure productivity un efficiency in your wife

Me: Wife? I have no wife Hanz. I’m hoping to find a husband

Myself: Your wife! You are about to start a new wife!

Me: Oh life. Well where do we begin?

Myself: Get out of ze the bed! Schnell!

About the Author
Dr. Ilan Manor (PhD Oxford University) is a diplomacy scholar at Tel Aviv University. Manor's recent book, The Digitalization of Diplomacy, explores how digital technologies have reshaped diplomatic practices. Manor has contributed to several publications including The Times of Israel, The Jerusalem Post, Haaretz and the Jewish Daily Forward. According to his Twitter bio, Manor is the inventor of the ashtray. He blogs at