How does that make you feel?

From classical to radical, there's an abundance of therapies to choose from

- REHANA MUNIR

Every few years, an old fantasy stirs my dormant demons. I begin, again, to harbour the desire to find a therapist, and renew the process that I began exactly a decade ago. I'd walked into my therapist’s office back then primed for classical psychoanalysis: My childhood was invented keeping future therapy in mind. In adolescence I'd studied literature, and even elementary psychology, which made Freud a looming presence in my tortured brain. Finally, existential leanings, coupled with chronic migraines, had made me the perfect offering for an attentive shrink. But after a year-and-a-half of bi-weekly sessions, I quit, despite the warnings of my excellent analyst. Is it time to return? I wonder.

Freud goes to Hollywood

I can identify two possible triggers for the revival of the therapy fantasy. I've recently been watching Frasier reruns. Niles Crane, Frasier’s neurotically fastidious brother, pining for his father’s physical therapist, Daphne, while lamenting the coldness of his never fully-revealed wife, Maris, is my all-time-favourite shrink and it has nothing to do with his professional skills.) More to the point, I just watched Stutz on Netflix, a documentary in which comedic actor Jonah Hill puts the spotlight on his real-life therapist of many years, Phil Stutz.