The Consultation Poem by David Keig

‘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 embarrassed to ask the question.

I thought for a moment.

‘Well, not really. No, not really’ was all I could say.

He made some notes at this point.

‘And those times of feeling good’ he asked ‘what are they like? ’

‘Like the sun is shining and I feel on top of the world’.

‘But there’s no real reason for that? ’ he asked ‘you just feel good and that’s it? ’

‘Yeah’ I replied.

‘What about your libido? ’ he asked as if enquiring what brand of beer I liked.

‘Funnily that’s pretty good’ I said smiling.

He frowned.

‘Is there any guilt that you feel? ’ he probed.

‘Do you feel guilty when you feel good or see others around you far less well off than you are? ’

‘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’.

‘But not real guilt? ’

‘No. Not really’.

‘So you feel bad at times but not guilty? ’

‘Guess not’

‘Do you ever feel bad about not feeling guilty? ’

He knew I was lost at this point and changed tack.

‘When did you last masturbate? ’ he threw in.

‘Can’t remember’ I said startled.

He made some notes.

‘So, you feel guilty about masturbation? ’ he continued.

‘No, not at all’.

‘But you don’t remember when you last did it? ’ he said with a manner of distaste and disbelief.

‘Not really’.

At this point I did not know where all this was going.

‘Do you go to church? ’ he asked.

‘No’

‘Why not? ’

‘Can’t see the point’

‘So why are you here? ’

At this point the confessional ended.

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.

But, at long last, I felt truly guilty.

So, perhaps, I will find redemption one day.