hazard

occupational hazard (noun):
a danger or hazard to workers that is inherent in a particular occupation

Every job has its hazards, whether it’s physical, emotional or psychological. My female owner had been caught up in a recent argument that being a psychologist has its inherent hazards which spills into daily life. She was not referring to the good-old “compassion fatigue” where many people in the helping profession would experience in their career. She was talking about her day-to-day interactions with people.

In a typical workday, she spends her time talking to strangers, trying to get to know them as much as possible, within a limited time-frame (usually an hour). Psychotherapy, she says, provides a platform for forming one of the most artificial, imbalanced form of relationships where the therapist is clearly in greater control. Yet, there is strong evidence that therapeutic alliance is the greatest contributing factor to positive outcomes (more than therapeutic techniques).

So anyway, she spends her day listening to people, engaging in “good counselling skills” – paraphrasing, reflecting, empathetic listening, minimal encouragers, summarising, non-verbal gestures, open-ended questions etc –in order to establish a good therapeutic alliance. Coming from a Rogerian perspective, my female owner is largely client-centred and non-directive and works hard at making the client feels valued and good about himself.

These have impact on her daily communication style it seems. I-Fren had been recently distressed by these vague vibes and they had a brief discussion about it. My female owner blamed it on occupational hazards, although he didn’t seem very convinced. Anyway, that conversation led to a mini-pondering session.

My female owner argued that her communication style is a result of her being trained to focus attention on others. That means allowing the other party to talk about himself, asking open-ended questions and reflecting answers. Sometimes, she asks therapeutic questions in normal conversations and stumps her audience with the difficulty of the question. The flip side is that she doesn’t really contribute much about herself to the conversation. Rather, she usually makes jokes or funny comments about random things. A psychological hoarder, I must say.

From another angle, she thinks she clams up when people ask the wrong or inappropriate questions. To her, people need to ask the right questions in order to get the answers they are looking for. Surrounded with many trained helping friends, my female owner reckons that she opens up only to people who engage her using “good counselling skills”. This also means that she finds it hard to identify people whom she can relate to when she wants help.

Ah, occupational hazards. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to be a psychologist. You can’t find help, the way you want it, when you need it.